


Not Alone

by lilly_the_kid



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Whump, Blood Drinking, Cowboys, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Touching, Power Imbalance, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Torture, Vampires, Western, Whump, alternate chapter 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25843084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilly_the_kid/pseuds/lilly_the_kid
Summary: They went into Dutch's tent and Arthur sat down on the cot. Dutch grabbed Molly's mirror and held it in front of Arthur's face."You don't know who did this to you?"Arthur gets turned into a vampire. He needs Dutch to help him with that.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 105
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur groaned and opened his eyes. He was moving. He looked around. He was slumped over on his horse, somewhere outside Saint Denis. How did he get here?

He sat up straight and tried to remember, but everything was hazy and his head hurt. He'd been in the city and he'd found some strange writings on walls. And then he went looking for something.

God, he was so tired. And hungry. He was surprised by that. It'd been a long time since he'd felt any real hunger. Not since he'd returned from Guarma and the Doctor had told him what was wrong.

This gave him pause. He also felt that he could breathe without it being a struggle. But he still felt so very weak.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. When he touched his neck he felt something sticky. He looked down and saw blood.

_"I will suck you dry!"_

Arthur flinched at the sudden memory. A pale tall figure was looking at him and coming towards him. And then- That was all. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember anything else. He must have gotten away and he must have managed to get on his horse. And his trusted horse had done the rest.

"You'e a good boy," he whispered and petted the black Arabian's neck.

He needed to get back to camp, but first he had to eat something. He went through his supplies and wolved down some meat, some crackers and a candy bar. To his surprised it didn't make him sick. If anything he was hungrier than before. And still so tired.

He slowly ate some more and made his way towards Beaver Hollow.

All of the sudden he felt something close, something dangerous. He looked around, but couldn't make out what it was. Shortly after his horse got nervous and went to the side. Only then did Arthur see the snake next to the road.

He frowned. How did he notice something was off before his horse did?

The rest of the way to camp he tried to remember more of the events from the past night, but it was no use.

He arrived just before dawn and immediately went to look for some stew. He snatched the last helping and ate it up. Still hungry.

The camp was quiet. It seemed as if everybody was either sleeping or away. Arthur went towards his wagon and sat down. He just needed to sleep, he told himself. He would figure it all out the next day. He moved to lie down and closed his eyes.

\------------

"Arthur!"

Arthur blinked and sat up. He looked around.

"Arthur, get over here!" Dutch was in front of his tent and waved towards him.

Arthur got up and almost doubled over at the painful emptyness in his stomach. He hastily ate something and went over to Dutch. His stomach still felt weird.

"What is it?"

"We may have something. Micah found-" Dutch stopped and leaned forward. He reached out and touched Arthur's neck.

Arthur had to force himself not to flinch. Lately Dutch hadn't been very affectionate and he usually wasn't in public. This caught him off guard.

"What happened to your neck?"

Arthur slowly remembered having felt blood there the night before.

"I don't really know, to be honest."

Dutch raised his eyebrows and looked at him.

"Well, come on, let me take a look."

They went into Dutch's tent and Arthur sat down on the cot. Dutch grabbed Molly's mirror and held it in front of Arthur's face.

"You don't know who did this to you?"

Arthur's eyes widened. There was a lot of dried blood. Whatever got him got him good.He shook his head.

Dutch looked at him for while longer. His expression was hard to read. He didn't look angry or impatient. He looked worried and maybe even fond. He put down the mirror and dipped a cloth in some water. He started cleaning the wound. Or more precisely wounds, as it turned out.

"What the hell is this?"

Dutch handed Arthur the mirror and he looked in shock at his neck. There were two small round spots, but they didn't look fresh, they looked like scars that were at least a few weeks old. Dutch turned Arthur's head to the right, so that he could take a closer look.

"You didn't have this yesterday, right?"

"No, I didn't "

"So, what happened?"

"I told you, I don't know, I don't remember."

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Well,-" Dutch was cut off by Micah walking in.

"You fill him in yet? We have to move now, if we wanna do this."

Dutch looked over at Micah and then back to Arthur. He was torn.

"Well, I was just starting to tell him. You up for a little robbery?"

Arthur shrugged.

"Sure."

He still felt a bit strange. And hungry. But all in all he felt better than he had in a long time. And a robbery sounded like a good distraction. Even if Micah was involved.

"Alright then, let's go. You can tell him on the way."

\-----------

Arthur cursed inwardly. He should have known. Anything Micah came up with ended in disaster. Why should this have been any different?

The stagecoach had been havily guarded and they had to fight tooth and nail just to get away. A lot of work for nothing. And lot of ammo lost without anything to show for it.

They had split up to get away from the law. Dutch had told them to meet up in Van Horn as soon as they could. Looked as if Arthur was the first one there. He was annoyed. He didn't like this shitty little place. All you could find here was trouble.

He got off his horse and went to the saloon. He was still hungry. Once inside he ordered something to eat. It didn't fill him up, but it helped the pain a bit. After that he sat down at the bar and ordered drinks. He got more and more angry with every drink that didn't do anything. Could've just drunk water, for god's sake, he thought. And still no sign of Dutch and Micah.

"Hey, rough night?"

Arthur turned his head, planning on telling whoever it was to mind their own goddamn business. But he didn't. The man looking at him was handsome and he looked kind. But more importantly he smelled amazing. Arthur shook his head at the thought. Men didn't smell amazing, what's wrong with you. It was true that he and Dutch had this thing, or maybe used to have this thing. But that was different. And Dutch had never smelled in a way that made his mouth water. Before he knew what he was doing, though, Arthur nodded.

"Yeah, you could say that."

The other man nodded as well.

"I hear you. Can I get you a drink?"

"Nah, I don't think these are working for me."

"And what would work for you?"

"I don't know. What do you have in mind?"

The man finished his drink and got up.

"Follow me."

Arthur hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure what he was doing and why he was doing it. He knew what it felt like when he wanted to do stuff with Dutch and this didn't feel like that. This felt different. This felt strange, maybe even dark. He still got up, though and followed tha man outside.

"I'm Jim, by the way."

"Arthur."

Jim lead him behind the saloon. There he turned around and smiled at Arthur.

"How you wanna do this?"

"I don't know," Arthur said truthfully. It was hard to concentrate. The smell had gotten even stronger and he went towards Jim without even thinking about it.

"That's okay."

Jim reached out and grabbed Arthur's shirt. He pulled him close and kissed him. Arthur's ears were ringing, everything around him seemed muted. The only real thing in the world was Jim's smell. Arthur pulled back and leaned forward again, kissing Jim's neck. His stomach hurt like hell, he couldn't think straight. It was as if what was happening happened to someone else. He felt himself opening his mouth and biting down.

He felt Jim struggle, but he pushed him hard against the wall. Jim wasn't a small man, but it was as if he weighed nothing. Arthur felt blood streaming in his mouth and he drank. It tasted better than anything he'd ever tasted before. He still felt Jim struggle, but he couldn't stop. He wanted to. At least he thought he did. I was hard to tell what even were his own thoughts anymore.

Arthur stopped when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down and saw that Jim had buried a knife in him just under his ribs. He let go of Jim who stumbled away, pulling the knife out as he went. Arthur's vision turned blurry and he fell on his knees.

He heard footsteps approaching and expected Jim to come and finish the job. But instead he saw Dutch walking towards him.

"What the hell happened here, Arthur?"

Arthur opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He slumped to the side and the world turned dark.

\----------


	2. Chapter 2

"Help me get him down from the horse!"

Arthur felt himself being grabbed and lifted. He almost blacked out again, there was so much pain.

"Let's put him down here."

Arthur felt hitting the ground and the pain got even worse. He groaned.

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know!"

"Shit! Did someone cut his tongue off? There's so much blood."

Arthur felt fingers on his face, opening his mouth. He turned his head to the side and tried to sit up. He yelled when he felt a sharp pain in his side. 

"Don't move. You were stabbed." 

Arthur looked up and saw Dutch and Micah who were staring down at him. Micah with an annoyed look on his face. Dutch seemed worried and maybe also angry, it was hard to tell.

"What's going on?" Arthur's voice was hardly more than a whisper. 

"We were hoping you could tell us that."

Arthur frowned. He remembered going to the saloon in Van Horn. And he remembered leaving with a man. Jim. He remembered leaving with Jim, because he smelled amazing. Well, he couldn't tell them that. He remembered kissing Jim and then. Then he bit him. Could that be right?

Dutch and Micah looked at him expectantly. 

"I don't remember. I came to Van Horn after everything went to shit." He looked pointedly at Micah. "And then I don't know. I must have left the saloon at some point. Maybe I got ambushed." 

He didn't like sounding like an idiot who got himself ambushed, but he also didn't want them to know that he was a freak who bit people. If that really happened.

"Alright, well, we'll have to take care of your wound first."

Dutch opened Arthur's shirt. He got a rag and cleaned off the dried blood. Then he stopped.

"Micah, I think I heard something. Go look if anyone's around."

"I didn't hear anything."

"Well, I did. So move!"

"Ok, ok." Micah held up his hands, drew his gun and walked away from the camp.

Dutch looked at Arthur.

"You'll have to do better than 'I don't remember', Arthur."

"What do you mean?"

"Just look!"

Arthur peered down to his side. The blood was gone and there was no wound. There was a scar that looked old and that was it. The pain was gone, too. Just moments ago his side had hurt like hell and now there was nothing.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I wish I knew," Arthur said. He felt such dread. And hunger. Once again.

"You gotta do better than that." 

Dutch looked at him and he seemed... angry? Maybe. But more importantly he seemed worried.

"I'm... I think I... back in Saints Denis." Arthur licked his lips. He tasted some of the blood there and even though it was dry and not fresh it tasted like heaven. "There was this... man and he must have... done something to me."

Dutch narrowed his eyes.

"What did he do?"

Arthur wanted to say that he didn't know, but then he remembered the blood on his own neck. 

"I think he bit me," he said softly. He didn't dare look at Dutch. 

"That wound on your neck?"

Arthur nodded.

"And what else?"

Arthur hesitated. This was tricky. He hadn't told anyone about being sick. 

"Well, I feel hungry all the time, but it doesn't matter how much I eat.The hunger won't stop." He scratched his head and braced himself. "And I went to a doctor after Guarma. Because of the coughing. And he told me that I have tuberculosis."

Arthur looked at Dutch and found his face unreadable. He hadn't said anything about being sick because he just didn't know how Dutch would've taken it. Ever since Blackwater he felt like he didn't know the man anymore. The man who'd always taken care of him, who'd always been there. Part of Arthur had believed that now Dutch would simply be annoyed and angry. And maybe even kick him out. And he'd been so afraid of that possibility that he hadn't dared mentioning it. 

He'd wanted to tell Dutch so much, though. He wanted to let him know and to see worry in his eyes. If he was completely honest with himself, he'd wanted Dutch to comfort him. He'd wanted him to show him that he cared, like he'd done years ago. Back when things hadn't been this complicated and hopeless mess. Before Micah, before Blackwater, before so many of their loved ones had died. 

"And?" Dutch's voice was ice cold.

Arthur winced. He didn't know how to read his expression. And now they had bigger problems to worry about.

"Well, I felt sick a lot, couldn't really breathe all that well. And I felt nauseous after eating. That's all gone now."

Dutch nodded. He ran his hand over Arthur's side once more, his fingers lingering over the scar.

"What about the blood on your mouth?" he asked. He didn't look at Arthur, his gaze remained on his hand tracing the scar.

"It's not mine." Arthur almost whispered. He didn't know what kind of reaction he expected, but he was stunned when Dutch just nodded again. 

Arthur was about to say something else. He wasn't sure what. Maybe he was going to explain himself, though he didn't know how to explain something he didn't really understand himself. Maybe he was about to apologize for not telling Dutch about being sick before. But at that moment Micah returned.

"Well, I don't know what you thought you heard, but there's noone out here but us." Micah put away his gun. "How's he?"

Dutch hurried to button Arthur's shirt back up. 

"He'll be fine. I managed to stop the bleeding and it wasn't too deep."

"It wasn't? He looked like a stuck pig."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," Arthur mumbled. Then he shoved Dutch's hands off and finished buttoning his shirt. He got up.

"We should get going."

"You feeling alright?" Duch looked at him and it seemed like he wanted to say more, but couldn't because of Micah.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just looked worse than it was." Arthur grabbed the cloth and cleaned the dried blood off his mouth as well. "I'll meet you back at camp."

Without waiting for a reply he went towards his horse. Suddenly he couldn't stand being near Dutch anymore. He couldn't talk to him anyway because of Micah and he couldn't stand the questioning looks right now. And he felt hungry again. He needed to get away before Dutch started to smell like Jim had. 

Luckily his horse had been near the saloon and Dutch and Micah must have taken it along. He mounted up and left. He needed to think.

\------------

Arthur rode for what felt like forever. He had no idea where he was going. What happened to him? He had heard about vampires, but those weren't real, just stories. And that couldn't be true. Also, wouldn't he die in sunlight then? And so far it didn't bother him at all. It couldn't be real. But the hunger was, he thought. 

Right after he'd bitten Jim he'd felt great and full for the first time in a long time. So it was safe to assume that he needed to drink blood, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. And now he was as hungry as he'd been before. Maybe he needed to drink often. Maybe the healing of the wound had required all the blood he'd drunk that time. One way or another, he needed more.

Arthur was ripped out of his thoughts when he heard a loud scream. A woman was crying for help. He stopped his horse and grabbed his Lancester repeater. Then he moved towards the sound. Two Murfrees had a young woman tied up to a tree and there was no doubt that they had nothing good in mind.

Arthur took aim and was planning on shooting them, but something stopped him. He put down the rifle and walked towards the two men. It felt like he was in a trance, as if someone else was pulling the strings.

"Look, what we got here," one of them said, his eyes lighting up. "Something for dessert. He's almost as pretty as she is." He pointed a rifle at Arthur. "You better stop, sweetheart."

Arthur didn't stop. He went towards the guy with a rifle and punched him in the face before he could even think about pulling the trigger. Then Arthur turned around and kicked the other guy in the stomach. He couldn't believe how fast it all happened. And how easy it was. 

While the two Murfrees were writhing on the ground Arthur cut the woman's binds. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"Run! Don't look back, just run."

The woman nodded. She turned around and starting running.

One of the Murfrees had gotten up. Arthur went towards him and grabbed his shirt. He pushed him down and bit down on his neck. Once again the sweet perfect taste was on his tongue and he drank greedily. Soon the man below him stopped moving.

"What the hell? What are you?" 

The other Murfree looked like he was about to cry. He stumbled backwards, but Arthur was on him in mere seconds and did as he did before.

Afterwards he stood among the corpses and didn't quite know how to feel. Physically he felt amazing, better than ever. And it wasn't as if those bastards hadn't deserved to die. But still. He felt as though he' d crossed a line that was impossible to uncross. And he wasn't sure he'd done so out of his own free will. He didn't know what he was supposed to do now.

\----------

Like he always did when he didn't know what to do, Arthur went to Dutch. He rode into camp well after midnight. Except for Bill who was keeping watch nobody was around. All tents were dark.

Arthur went straight to Dutch's tent. The flaps were down, but he didn't care. He went inside. Dutch was asleep on his cot. Arthur stood there for a moment and watched him. No matter what happened, he always ended up back here. This was the only constant that was left. Had Hosea been still alive he'd probably try to talk to him. To see if he could make sense of it all. Hosea had always been great at explaining things. And at making Arthur feel safe. But he wasn't here anymore, Arthur thought bitterly. Dutch was all he had left.

He moved forward and touched Dutch's arm. He shook it. 

"Dutch, wake up."

Dutch flinched and his hand went straight for his gun. But Arthur grabbed it and stopped the movement. Once again he was amazed at how easy it was. Dutch seemed surprised by that well. And maybe he looked a bit frightened. But that was gone in an instant.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Dutch subtly tugged on his hand and Arthur released it.

"I'm not sure," Arthur said truthfully. "But I can't do it alone." 

He moved forward and grabbed Dutch's shoulders. He pulled him close and kissed him. For a second he was back at that campside with the Murfrees and behind the saloon with Jim, but he pushed those thoughts away. This was not that, he told himself. This was something else. This was something he knew. This was something he needed. He felt Dutch kissing him back and he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling.

\-----------


	3. Chapter 3

Afterwards they got dressed without talking. Arthur sat down on Dutch's cot. He lit a cigarette. He figured there was no point in avoiding them anymore. 

Dutch sat down on his chair. He didn't do anything, just stared straight ahead.

"You ok?" Arthur took a deep drag. There was no burning in his throat. 

Dutch stayed silent for a moment. Then he looked over at Arthur.

"You still got some blood on your mouth." 

Arthur reached up and rubbed across his mouth.

"Sorry."

"Arthur, what is this?"

"This?" Arthur gestured between the two of them. "We've done this before."

Dutch sighed.

"I know. That's not what I mean and I think you know that."

Arthur lowered his gaze. He looked at his cigarette.

"You believe in vampires?"

He expected Dutch to laugh or maybe get angry. Hell, he was angry himself just thinking about this. This was stupid and crazy. And yet.

"I guess I have to." 

Dutch reached for a bottle of whiskey. He grabbed it, but put it down again. He looked lost. Arthur realized that he'd never seen Dutch look entirely lost before. Oh sure, there were intances during their time on Guarma when he'd seemed hopeless and almost out of his mind. Arthur still shuddered at the thought of the old woman. Ever since then he'd seen Dutch in a different light. But he still knew that he needed him. And that he'd always come back to him.

And there had been the time right after Annabelle when it seemed as though nothing would ever get Dutch out of the state of deep despair he'd found himself in. But it had never been like this. Never in a way that truly frightened Arthur. And that was what was happening.

"I guess you do. And I do, too. Though I have no idea what this means and what I'm supposed to do now."

"That's why you came here?"

Arthur shrugged.

"In a way. But I also wanted to. It's been a long time."

Dutch nodded.

"I know."

Arthur looked outside and saw the first rays of the morning sun. He got up.

"I guess I'll go get some sleep."

Dutch looked up.

"The sun doesn't bother you?"

Arthur shook his head.

"No, as far as I know, it doesn't."

"Ok, then that's one thing we know. We'll figure out the rest as well. I'm sure."

Arthur smiled. That was what he'd come looking for. Dutch would make sense of this. He was good at taking utter chaos and confusion and turning it into something that people could believe in.

\-----------

When Arthur woke up it was almost noon. He blinked and sat up. He was hungry, but it was the normal kind of hungry. He ate some bread and was relieved to notice that he felt full. So, those two Murfrees were enough for a while at least.

Arthur found that he felt good. And a bit restless. He decided to go hunting. 

He rode towards the heartlands. Pretty soon he was reminded of the time when he could sense the snake before his horse could. Again, he noticed tracks faster and it almost felt as if he could smell the deer. It didn't take long until he had a good amount of food and pelts he could bring back to camp.

He rode into Beaver Hollow just as the sun was setting. Pearson was overjoyed when he delivered the goods. Arthur was pretty sure he was the only one still bringing something in. 

He stopped by John and Abigail and they talked for a while. Jack was playing near by. Arthur was still worried about them. After his initial outburst when Sadie and Arthur had rescued John, Dutch hadn't said anything about the subject, but Arthur was still wary. He knew that he would always need Dutch, but what he needed and what was good for other people were two different things. 

After his diagnosis he'd thought a lot about his life and what he wanted to do differently. In a way he had been given a second chance. With all the confusion and chaos so far he hadn't really thought about it this way, but he couldn't deny the truth of it. Even without the disease hanging over his head, he was still aware of the fact that their way of life was a thing of the past and not sustainable for much longer. 

On his way back to his wagon he thought about how he could ensure that the people he cared for would be safe and would have a future. Could he trust Dutch enough to broach the subject? Over the past few days he felt closer to him and in a way it was inevitable.

"Arthur!" Dutch was standing in front of his tent and was waving. "Come over here!"

He walked towards Dutch and was surprised that Micah was nowhere to be seen. Pleasantly surprised if he was honest.

"You got plans tonight?" 

Arthur shook his head.

"Good," Dutch looked excited. "I got this lead about a homestead. Should be lots of cash in there and almost noone guarding it."

"Alright." Arthur was a bit taken aback. He'd expected that Dutch might wanna talk about the previous night and his... condition or whatever. He'd been excited to tell Dutch about his experiences while hunting. But he understood that they needed money and he could still tell him later.

"Great, come on."

\-----------

"You sure this is it?" Arthur peered through the trees. The cabin seemed shabby and the ground was disturbed. There'd been a lot coming and going, didn't exactly seem quiet.

"I'm sure." 

"Who told you?" 

"Would you trust me, please?" 

Arthur looked at Dutch. He didn't seem angry which was strange. Usually nothing set Dutch off like someone questioning him. He decided to let it go.

"Alright, what's the plan?"

"You sneak in and get the money. If anyone's there you shoot them."

"And what are you going to do?"

"I'll be here in case there's trouble."

Arthur felt uneasy. Everything about this seemed wrong. But he'd learned a long time ago that he would always do what Dutch wanted. There was no use fighting it. So he just shrugged, pulled his gun and made his way to the door.

He picked the lock and slipped inside. It was dark. But he could tell that he wasn't alone. Just like he could sense that snake and smell those deer. There were people here, at least six. They were asleep. His heart started hammering. Had Dutch just sent him into a trap? Had he decided that he was no longer trustworthy, that he was a lability they needed to get rid off?

Arthur turned around and was planning on getting out before anyone could hear him. Just then a shot rang out. It came from outside. And then there was chaos. 

He could hear different voices and movements, two lanterns were lit and he was looking at six Lemoyne Raiders who were staring back at him.

"Well, look what we have here. He sure must have a death wish." 

Several guns were cocked and aimed at him. Arthur wasn't sure exactly what transpired in the next minutes, it all went so fast. He was once again moving as if directed by someone else and he was killing so fast he couldn't believe it. 

Afterwards he was in the middle of the room surrounded by corpses and there hadn't even been a single gunshot. He still felt the blood on his tongue and it still tasted better than anything else in the world.

"That was truly amazing."

Arthur's head spun around and he saw Dutch standing in the doorway looking at him like noone had ever looked at him before. 

"You set this up?"

Arthur's tone was carefully neutral, but he was furious. Dutch couldn't have known that he would be able to handle all of them. He was also furious because it hadn't been his choice to kill them. He enjoyed it, he couldn't deny that, but still. Just a few hours earlier he'd thought about changing his ways, about looking for a different life and here was, knee deep in corpses.

Dutch nodded. 

"I wanted to see what you could do."

"And I take it you're happy with what you saw."

Part of Arthur wanted to grab Dutch and smash his head against the wall. He wanted to punch him in the face and ask him if it was amazing. But another part of him was oddly proud. The way that Dutch was looking at him was all he'd ever wanted from him. And now here it was. And all it took was for you to become a monster, a voice in Arthur's head whispered. He shoved that thought away with force. 

Dutch nodded again and walked towards Arthur. He grabbed Arthur's shirt and pulled him close. He kissed him and licked the blood from his mouth. 

Arthur stood frozen for a moment, then he kissed back. He pushed at Dutch until his back hit the wall. He kicked Dutch's legs apart and pushed in between them. Dutch groaned when Arthur rubbed against him.

Arthur's hand wandered down and unfastened Dutch's pants. He reached inside and grabbed Dutch's hard cock. He started moving his hand and felt Dutch's breath coming faster. Then he stopped kissing him and let his mouth wander down his neck. He heard Dutch's breath hitch. He bit down carefully, not breaking the skin. It was enough to push Dutch over the edge.

\-------------

They left the cabin and rode back towards Beaver Hollow. It was late, way past midnight.

Arthur kept thinking about how Dutch had lied to him, led him into a cabin full of enemies and had then given away his location. How he had played not only with Arthur's life but also with his trust. He still didn't like any of it.

But he also kept thinking about the way Dutch had looked at him. As if he was the most perfect thing he'd ever seen. Something precious. Something special. And he kept thinking about how Dutch had desired him. How he had trembled underneath him. How he had fallen apart under his touch.

His mind was buzzing with all of this and the blood he'd just consumed was flowing through him, filling him with a feeling of contentment and satisfaction. He was still worried about everyone in camp. They were still being hunted and far from safe. Somehow those worries seemed far away right now, but Arthur knew that he couldn't just ignore them.

"What's next?" he asked, not looking at Dutch.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's next. Where are we going to go? We need to get away, Dutch. You know that. Hell, we were about to leave when the whole Guarma thing happened and now we're still hiding out. We can't keep doing this."

"I told you, I have a plan. As soon as we have enough money-"

"Oh come on!" Arthur cut in front of Dutch, forcing him to stop. 

"You can't seriously still wanna go through with Tahiti or whatever, not after Guarma. Who's to say things will be better there? And we can't wait much longer. We need to move."

Dutch stared at him for moment. There was anger in his eyes. He got off his horse, not breaking eye contact and Arthur dismounted as well.

"What do you think you're doing, Arthur? I'm sick and tired of you constantly doubting my every move. I'm doing the best I can here. And with Hosea gone..." Dutch stopped and rubbed his face, trying to compose himself. "And with your new... situation. I mean, I know we need to leave, but where?"

"You don't have to do this on your own, you know? I know that without Hosea things have been tough and I miss him, too. I don't understand why you think you have to do everything. You can talk to me. Or John. Or Sadie. We're on your side."

"Are you?" Suddenly Dutch was very still and his eyes were ice cold once again. "Are you on my side? Can I trust you?"

Arthur was taken aback. 

"Of course, you can. Why do you even doubt that?"

"Because you didn't tell me you were dying!" Dutch yelled. He grabbed Arthur's jacket and slammed him against a tree. "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

Arthur was silent for a moment. He didn't know what to say. He felt the tree bark dig into his back, but he didn't move. It would have been easy to break free. He'd been strong before, but now he knew that physically there was no way Dutch could overpower him. He also knew that Dutch didn't need to be able to physically overpower him. He had a hold over him that was even stronger.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Why the hell don't you know something like this?"

"I thought you'd kick me out." Arthur was getting angry himself. "You didn't look for me when Colm had me. I figured I was expendable. And I guess, I didn't want you to see me as weak."

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Arthur was the first to look away. 

"How did it all go so wrong?" He asked. He wasn't angry anymore, just tired.

"I don't know," Dutch let go of him and took a step back. He rubbed the back of his neck. He sounded defeated. "I guess, I got lost in my head. At one point all I could see was enemies everywhere. And I kept going further down that road."

Arthur nodded. He was about to tell Dutch that he needed to stop listening to Micah, but then Dutch turned his head and looked at him.

"I'm glad you're not gonna die."

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. This was what he was hoping for and he was overwhelmed when he heard Dutch say it. And yet he sends you into a cabin full of enemies, the voice in his head said. Arthur mentally shook his head. There was no use dwelling on things like this. 

"Well, we don't know that. I'm not gonna die from tuberculosis, but other than that." He shrugged.

Dutch smiled. 

"I guess that's true. For all of us." He took a deep breath. "We have to come up with a new plan."

\-----------


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur was back on Guarma. It was hot and he felt horrible. Every cough hurt and he struggled to set one foot in front of the other. He needed to get back to the others. He wasn't sure why or where he was right now. He only knew that he needed to find Dutch.

He kept walking through the jungle. Everything looked the same, but somehow he knew he was getting closer. He could smell it. He could smell Dutch. He started running.

He reached a small clearing and saw Dutch standing there with his back towards him. 

"Hey, Dutch!"

Dutch turned around. His eyes widened in recognition. He didn't look happy. He looked terrified. He opened his mouth to scream, but before he could Arthur grabbed his hair with one hand and dug the fingers of his other hand deep into Dutch's shoulder. Then he bent down and bit down hard. Then Dutch screamed.

Arthur woke up in cold sweat. His heart was racing and he was terrified. He needed a moment to realize that he was on his cot in Beaver Hollow. He exhaled slowly and tried to calm down. He was horrifed to notice that he was hard.

What the hell was that?!

It was still dark, but there was no use trying to go back to sleep. Arthur got up and went to get some coffee. He grabbed a cup and sat down by the fire.

His heart was still pounding from the nightmare. What did this mean? Would he turn on the people he cared about? Or was it just a dream that didn't really mean anything? Every time he felt like he got a handle on the new situation something else happened. On the one hand he was glad to be rid of the tuberculosis, of course. But he didn't really know what he'd traded it for. And if his new condition would lead to him harming and possibly killing his loved ones, well.

He lit a cigarette and tried to calm down. So far he hadn't hurt or killed anyone that hadn't deserved it. And it wasn't like he'd never killed people before. 

"Hey, Arthur, you ok?"

Arthur looked up. He'd been lost in thought and hadn't noticed Sadie coming over. She sat down next to him, a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Sure," he said and took another swig. "How about you?"

"As well as I can be, considering everything." Sadie shrugged. 

They both sat for a while and stared into the fire.

"You seem different," Sadie said. She didn't look at him.

Arthur felt his pulse speeding up again. He tried not to show it.

"Oh yeah? Different how?"

"I don't know, different." Sadie finished her coffee and turned the cup around in her hands. "In a way better. I was worried about that cough of yours, but it seems gone now."

Arthur nodded.

"Yeah, I got rid of that."

"That's good then." She kept fiddling with the cup, clearly not finished with what she wanted to say. "But you also seem lost. Like, before you always seemed to know what you had to do. It may sound strange, but you always seemed like the man with a plan to me, not Dutch." She smiled.

Arthur had to actually laugh at that.

"Don't let him hear that."

"Don't worry, I won't." She turned her head and looked him. "But seriously, are you ok? You can talk to me. I promise I won't tell anyone." She paused for a moment. "And I'm not one to judge."

Arthur took some time finishing his own coffee. He didn't know what to say. He trusted Sadie. They worked well together and they'd done a great job getting John out of prison. And yet, Dutch had been the one he'd confided in. Well, in a way it'd been out of his control. Dutch had noticed the blood in his neck and he'd found him in Van Horn, but still. It hadn't even occurred to him that he could have talked so someone else. Old habits die hard, he thought. He didn't feel like he could talk about this with anyone else just now, though. He had too many questions himself, he didn't want to have to answer someone else's.

"I appreciate it," he said. 

She waited, but realized he wasn't about to say anything else.

"Alright, you know where to find me." She got up and started walking away. Then she stopped and turned around again. "Take care, Arthur. And remember that you don't have to be in this alone."

He nodded and watched her walk away.

Arthur drank some more coffee and when the sun started rising he went to get his journal. He walked towards a nice spot by the river and sat down under a tree. A cigarette in hand he tried to remember more about the night in Saint Denis. 

After finishing the cigarette he started drawing. Slowly and hesitantly. Tall and pale, that was what he was quite sure about, but it was hard to conjure up anything else. 

Around noon he had a rough drawing of a tall bald man. The eyes were bloodshot and the ears maybe a bit bigger than normal and kind of pointy. Arthur sighed and touched his own ears. Nope, definitely the same ears he'd always had. 

Maybe he didn't turn completely. Maybe they got interrupted when the man did whatever he did to him. Maybe that man had weird ears before. Maybe it just hadn't happened yet. So many maybes. Frustrated Arthur slammed his journal shut. 

He noticed that he was hungry. He ate some dried meat and some crackers. He felt better, but he was still hungry. He knew the feeling by now and could be sure that this was the other hunger. It wasn't strong yet, but he could feel it.

Arthur's heart sank. He didn't want to deal with this. The other times he'd acted more or less on instinct. But to actively seek out people just to eat them... He shuddered. It felt wrong. He'd killed before, of course he had. But he never went out for the killing. It had always been an unfortunate byproduct and not the goal.

Well, this can still wait for now, he thought. But he knew that sooner rather than later he would have to deal with it. Maybe it'd be enough to just drink some and not kill a person. But what would he do with that person then? Just hope they'd keep quiet?

He lit another cigarette. Maybe animal blood would work. That was something he could definitely try at least. It would be safer and easier to come by.

"Arthur?" Dutch's voice was faint, he was probably still at camp. Part of Arthur didn't want to answer. The dream was still fresh in his mind and he didn't know if he could face him. He was also afraid of the hunger getting stronger, though he knew he'd been hungry before with Dutch present and nothing had happened. But still. 

"Arthur, you here?" The voice was closer now.

Arthur took a deep breath. 

"Yeah, down here." He heard Dutch approach. HIs heart starting racing.

"There you are." Dutch sat down next to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Thinking."

Dutch turned his head and looked at Arthur. He seemed amused. 

"About?"

Arthur gestured towards himself. 

"All of this... strange stuff going on."

Dutch nodded. 

"I see." His gaze fell on Arthur's journal. "You've come up with something?"

Arthur hesitated. He rarely showed his drawings to anyone. He used to show Hosea some of those he was kinda proud of, but other than that he didn't like to share this part of him. But he needed to talk to someone about his and right now Dutch was the only one who knew, the only one who would understand. And he felt that maybe he'd gotten through to him the other night. 

He grabbed the journal and opened it to the drawing of the tall man. He handed it to Dutch.

Dutch looked at the drawing for a long time. Then he handed the journal back to Arthur.

"I ain't sure that's really what he looked like. It's all still a blur. And I don't even know how I got away. Or if he even tried to kill me. Maybe I was supposed to end up like this." 

Arthur shrugged. He looked towards the river.

"Well, it's strange alright." Dutch paused. He started fiddling with his rings. "But maybe, I mean, it is better than you dying, right?"

"Sure." Arthur nodded. "Thing is, though, with tuberculosis you know what you're up against. This- I don't know what this is and what will happen. What if I end up looking like some freak? What if I wake up one day only to turn to dust when the sun hits me?"

"We could all die at any given moment. At least now you know, you won't die of being stabbed. That's something at least."

Arthur smiled. He appreciated Dutch trying to get him to see the bright side. But the truth was all these things weren't really his biggest concern.

"What if-" he stopped. Dutch waited, looking at him with a sincerity that made Arthur's heart stutter. "What if," he continued softly. "I can't control it and turn on people I care about." He looked at Dutch. "What if I turn on you?"

Dutch's eyes widened and he looked worried. But he managed to get his face under control almost immediately.

"Do you have any reason to think that? Has it been hard to control so far?"

Arthur hesitated. He didn't want Dutch to think that he was a threat, but he was worried about harming someone he cared about. He was worried about harming Dutch. The dream was still so vivid in his head. The terrified look on Dutch's face, the feeling of ripping his throat out. 

"Not around anyone here, not around you. But that guy in Van Horn, it was as if I wasn't the one making the decision to bite him, it was like I acted on pure instinct with no room for thought. Same thing with those Lemoyne Raiders. I just did what I did. I honestly don't know if I could have stopped myself."

He felt Dutch touch his shoulder and he flinched. Dutch pulled his hand back. He looked hurt, but even more confused.

"I wish I had answers for you, but I'm afraid I don't." Dutch looked down at his hand as he let it fall in his lap. 

"Yeah, I know. I guess, I'll have have to wait and see. Figure things out. And hope for the best." 

"Sounds like what we've always been doing." 

Arthur had to laugh a bit at that. He nodded.

They sat together in silence for a while. After some time Dutch raised his hand again. He looked at Arthur and Arthur gave him a small nod. Dutch put his hand on Arthur's back and rubbed slowly in small circles. Arthur sighed and leaned into the touch.

"Let's get something to eat. It's past noon."

They got up and walked back towards the camp.

As they got closer they could already hear the commotion. There were several people talking. Sadie's voice being the loudest.

"What's going on?" Dutch walked faster while Arthur stayed behind.

"They got Colm O'Driscoll!" Sadie was gathering her weapons and loading up her horse.

"Who's got him?"

"The law. They're gonna hang him tomorrow in Saint Denis. I'm gonna make sure he swings." Sadie got on her horse.

"We're coming with you." Dutch gestured between him and Arthur. 

Arthur frowned. It was true that it was probably a good idea to make sure. Colm had been on the gallows lots of times and he'd always found a way to get away. But with everything going on... It didn't feel right. He didn't say any of that, though. Instead he just nodded. He didn't want Sadie or Dutch going in there alone.

"Sure, we'll come with you."

Sadie nodded.

"Alright. I'll get going now. See what I can find out. Meet me at the saloon as soon as you get there."

She turned her horse around and sped away.

\------------

"I'm sure we can blend in wearing police uniforms. Mrs Adler could disguise herself as a noble woman. Noone would bat an eye at that."

"Sure."

They were riding through the bayou. It was dark and Dutch had been coming up with ideas, dismissing some and keeping others in mind. He seemed excited to finally be able to witness his oldest enemy hang.

Arthur couldn't really share his enthusiasm. Sure, he hated Colm. That bastard had tortured him, almost killed him. But more importantly that whole encounter had Arthur doubting Dutch's loyalty towards him. It had him doubting if Dutch even cared for him at all. And wasn't that just almost funny? Still, despite all that Arthur didn't feel like this should be their highest priority right now. They were being hunted and needed to get away. Riding into Saint Denis, a city with a big police force wasn't the smartest thing in the world. It was like riding into the lion's den, hoping another lamb got eaten instead.

He was also quite uneasy about something else. The hunger he'd felt at camp earlier had become stronger. Not as strong as in the beginning, but noticeably stronger nonetheless. And it wasn't as if he could just eat all the O'Driscolls they might encounter. That wouldn't go over well in a big city with lots of people around.

"You with me, Arthur?" Dutch looked at him, he seemed annoyed at Arthur's lack of response.

"Yeah, sure," Arthur replied. "It's just that, you know, I don't feel good about being around so many people with, well, with all of this."

"I see," Dutch nodded. "I understand, but this won't take long. You feeling ok now? Anything wrong?"

Arthur hesitated. He should tell Dutch about the hunger, but he didn't want to complicate things even further. And it really wasn't too bad, he told himself. He'd handled himself before, he could do it again.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just... uneasy, I guess."

"Don't worry. This will be over soon."

They'd reached the city limit and rode towards the saloon.

\------------


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur was picking off one O'Driscoll after another. It was so easy. He'd been a good shot before, but now it didn't even take an effort. Sure, he had to focus and concentrate, but there was no doubt whatsoever that he would hit what he wanted to hit. 

Dutch and Sadie were doing well, taking out their share and working their way to a wagon. Satisfied that they would make it Arthur packed up and made his way off the roof. He found a secluded spot and changed back into his clothes, discarding the uniform. 

All in all it had worked perfectly. And he was relieved to find that he'd been able to control the hunger. It'd been hard when he'd encountered the sniper on the roof. It had seemed like such a waste to just kill him, but he just couldn't have been sure that noone was watching.

And it was over now. He had plenty of time to find an opportunity to take care of it. Though it still didn't sit right with him. He made his way to the outskirts of town to meet up with Dutch and Sadie. After meeting Sadie in the saloon and coming up with a plan, they'd hidden their horses in the bayou and had made their way back into town on foot.

\------------

"Damn good shooting!" Dutch hopped off the wagon that was halfway off the road. He and Sadie had changed as well, both looking happy.

"Thanks. You too." 

"That damn bastard finally got what he deserved." Sadie smiled at Arthur.

Arthur was about to reply when he suddenly had a bad feeling. He couldn't really make out what was happening. He'd had bad feelings before, just when a situation had been about to go south, but that'd been nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

He looked around frantically, trying to make out what had him spooked.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Dutch's voice seemed muted. It was as if Arthur's ears were filtering out some sounds in favor of others. Then he heard it, a gun being cocked.

"Get down!" Arthur shouted and drew his own gun. He turned in the direction the sound had been coming from. There were three O'Driscolls hidden in the brush and they opened fire. 

Arthur managed to hit two of them immediately, but one shot hit his arm. He yelled and dropped his gun. 

Sadie and Dutch opened fire as well. Sadie came out from her cover and ducked along the wagon to get a better shot. 

Without knowing why, acting on pure instinct, Arthur sprinted forward and pushed her down. Just then two more bullets hit him. One in his shoulder and the other in his side, just above the belt. He went down, hitting the ground right next to Sadie who stared at him with wide eyes.

Everything was hazy, like watching the world through a thick fog. Arthur heard Dutch firing more shots and then the shooting stopped.

"I got him." Suddenly Dutch was next to him, his hands roaming his body, looking for the wounds.

Arthur felt pain, but more importantly he could feel the blood leaving his body and at the same time he could feel the hunger getting so much stronger. No, no, no, he thought. 

"We need to get him to a doctor." Sadie was next to him as well, looking panicked. 

Dutch ignored her while he prodded at Arthur's shoulder. Arthur screamed when he felt Dutch digging in and getting the bullet out. 

"What the hell are you doing, Dutch? He's gonna die!" Sadie dropped her rifle and tried to pull Dutch off of Arthur. Dutch shoved her off.

"Listen to me, Mrs Adler. I know what I'm doing. He's gonna make it. I promise you that. But you have to listen to me and you have to do what I say. Do you understand?"

"The hell I will. You're killing him. He needs a goddamn doctor!"

Arthur groaned and reached out. He managed to grab Sadie's hand. She looked down, startled. 

"Don't worry, Arthur. We'll get you help. I'll-" She stopped when Arthur squeezed her hand.

"Listen... Listen to Dutch." Talking was difficult, he could barely breathe. And the hunger was getting stronger by the second. He was horrified to notice that both Dutch and Sadie started to smell real good. Like Jim had.

"But-"

"Please... Sadie."

She nodded. 

Dutch grabbed Arthur's arm.

"The bullet went through, good." He looked at Sadie. "Help me turn him over."

She grabbed Arthur and they pulled until he was on his back. Dutch lifted his shirt and inspected the wound on his side. The bullet had passed through, leaving a giant gaping hole. 

"Ok, ok," Dutch mumbled. He ran his hand through his hair, smearing blood through it. "Mrs Adler, help me get him on the wagon. We need to get out of here."

Together they lifted Arthur onto the wagon. Sadie went and started driving. Dutch took the clothes they'd discarded earlier and ripped them up. He started dressing Arthur's wounds as best he could.

"It's gonna be fine, Arthur. It's gonna be fine." He was worried, though. The wounds were still bleeding. Not as much as before but they weren't healing like they had before.

Arthur groaned and then started to say something, but it was hard to form words, he found. Dutch leaned down.

"What is it?"

"You... you need to leave." 

It cost him almost all of his energy to say those few words. It got harder and harder to control his hunger. Paired with the pain of the wounds it was almost unbearble. 

Dutch looked down at him and frowned.

"I'm not gonna leave. What are you on about?"

Arthur groaned again and balled his hands into fists, willing himself not to grab Dutch and rip his throat out.

"So... hungry." It was all he managed to say.

Understanding dawned on Dutch's face. Followed by grim determination. 

"You need blood to heal. Right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Mrs Adler, get us off the road and get back here."

Arthur felt Dutch move beside him and he tried to turn away. The smell was so strong and he could hardly think straight. It took so much efford to just not attack Dutch. He felt the wagon stop. Sadie climbed up and settled next to Dutch and she smelled amazing as well. Arthur pressed his eyes shut and willed himself to be still. 

"Mrs Adler, I need you to do exactly as I say. This may seem strange, but please believe me, it is necessary." While talking Dutch rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. He grabbed his knife and started cutting along his forearm. Sadie's eyes widened.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Please, just stay where you are and if I tell you to do something, you do it. Please." Dutch looked at her and she pressed her lips together, not entirely convinced. 

"Please, it's the only way to help him." 

Sadie looked from Dutch to Arthur and back. Finally she nodded.

Arthur sensed Dutch coming closer. He still had his eyes closed and he only felt Dutch grabbing the back of his head and lifting it up. Then he felt something being pressed in front of his face. Oh God, it smelled amazing, it was perfection, it was the best thing he'd ever smelled. Without thinking Arthur opened his mouth and started drinking. It was heaven, it was pure bliss. Nothing mattered anymore, there was no more pain. 

Jim had tasted great, so had the Murphrees and the Raiders, but this was something else. Arthur couldn't form a coherent thought. The only things going through his mind were 'Yes!' and 'More!' and everything else was a blur.

Gradually he became aware of voices and hands pulling on him.

"Stop... Please. Mrs Adler, get him to stop."

"Get... off him!" Sadie was grabbing his hair and trying to pull his head back. There was something close to despair in her voice.

"Please... Arthur.... Please... Stop." Dutch's voice was much softer, barely even there.

Arthur's eyes snapped open. He was holding Dutch's arm, his mouth was still on the cut. He let go and almost jumped back. Sadie let go of this hair. She moved away from him, eyeing him warily, her hand on her gun.

Arthur looked over to Dutch and his heart almost stopped. Dutch had slumped over and he wasn't moving.

"No, no, no..." Arthur moved towards him. He turned him over and looked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. 

"Get away from him!" Arthur looked up and saw Sadie pointing her gun at him. 

"Sadie, I'm- Look, we need to help him."

"What the hell did you do? What is going on here, Arthur?"

"Please, I'll explain, I promise, but we need to help him first." 

After a moment Sadie nodded and put away her gun.

"Don't make me regret this. I figure no matter what's going with you, a few bullets through your head should do the trick in any case." Her voice was wary.

Arthur just nodded. He grabbed Dutch's arm and looked at the cut. It was deep and there were bitemarks as well. Those weren't too deep, but noticable nonetheless. Sadie handed him some whiskey and he poured it over the cut. Dutch wasn't moving. They bandaged the wound. He checked his pulse again, it was the same. Dutch looked as if he was sleeping, but he was also very pale. Arthur felt sick. Just how much blood did he drink? And he wouldn't have stopped on his own.

"We should get back to camp. Get him somewhere safe where he can recover." Arthur didn't dare look at her. He didn't know what to say or how to act.

"Alright. But you're gonna tell me now what's going on."

\-----------

They were close to Van Horn. Dutch was still unconcious and Arthur looked back every few minutes. He was worried. He'd told Sadie about his condition, situation or whatever. Not an easy thing to do considering that he didn't understand it himself. After he finished they drove on in silence for a while. Their horses were following along.

Arthur flinched when Sadie suddenly talked.

"So, you were dying."

Arthur looked at her. He was surprised. That wasn't what he'd expected. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

"Yeah, I was," he said after a moment.

There was silence again.

"And now you need to drink blood."

He winced. It sounded so stupid and crazy. It didn't sound real.

"As far as I've figured out, yeah."

"And Dutch is the only one who knows?" She looked at him and there was something in her eyes that made him uneasy. He didn't think that she knew about that... thing between him and Dutch, but still. 

"Yeah," he nodded. "Except you know too now."

"Wish to hell I didn't."

He had to smile at that. 

"I get that."

"And you're fine now? Like the wounds are all healed up?"

"Yes." He lifted his arm and pointed to the wound that now looked like an old scar.

"But those were serious injuries. Was Dutch's blood really enough? I mean, you said you'd been hungry before you got shot. It doesn't add up."

Arthur was cursing inwardly. He didn't know why he'd thought Sadie wouldn't put two and two together. 

"Actually, I'm really hungry right now." He raised his hands. "But don't worry, I got it under control."

"Sure didn't seem like it back there." 

"That was... different. It was like something took over, something that cared only about survival. I'm... sorry. And..." he sighed. "I tried to tell Dutch that the two of you needed to leave, but he wouldn't listen."

Sadie pressed her lips together and didn't respond. 

They drove on in silence.

\-----------

They were just passing Elysian Pool when they heard faint voices. 

"Stop and wait here."

Arthur got up and walked towards the voices. As he got closer he could make out a camp and two Murfrees going through the things on the ground. No doubt that they'd just killed the people who were unfortunate enough to make camp here. Arthur felt repulsed but more than that he felt hungry and this was a perfect opportunity.

He went on slowly, not making a sound. Once he was close enough he let that thing take over and within moments the Murfrees were dead on the ground and his hunger was sated. He went over to the lake and washed his face. He looked down and realized that he couldn't go into camp like this, with a ripped up shirt and covered in blood but without any wounds. He took off his shirt and threw it away. Then he washed off the blood as best he could. He returned to the road and stopped by his horse to get a new shirt and put it on. Sadie was watching him, not saying a word. He got back on the wagon and they started moving again.

"What did you do?" Sadie's tone was carefully neutral.

Arthur hesitated. He knew he had to tell her the truth, there was no point in lying about this now. But it wasn't easy to talk about this. It hadn't been easy to talk about it with Dutch and it wasn't easy to talk about it with her. Hell, it wasn't easy to even think about it.

"I took care of that hunger," he said. 

"You did, did you?" She looked straight ahead.

"Yeah, I did. I don't think the world is gonna miss some murdering Murfree bastards." 

"I suppose not."

"Sadie," Arthur stopped. He wasn't sure how to do this. "We need to decide what we're gonna tell them in camp."

"I know. Listen Arthur, I told you before that you can talk to me and that I won't judge. I knew something was different." She paused, staring off to the side for a few moments. Then she looked at him. "I mean, I sure as hell wasn't expecting this, whatever this is. But, you know, what I said is still true. You can trust me. I won't tell anyone." After a pause she continued. "And I still trust you. I mean, if it wasn't for you I'd be dead now."

"Thank you." Arthur felt a weight drop off his shoulders. He hadn't really expected Sadie to tell anyone, but he just didn't feel like he could be sure in a situation like this. Hearing her say that she still trusted him meant a lot. Especially since she'd seen what he'd done to Dutch. He looked back once more. Dutch was still unconscious.

"I figure we tell them that we were successful, that Colm O'Driscoll is dead. And that we got ambushed and Dutch got hurt. It's more or less the truth." 

Arthur nodded. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best they could do.

"Arthur, I know it may not seem like it, but it's good that you told me. And Dutch. I mean I guess you told him." She looked at him. 

Arthur shrugged. 

"In a way I told him. But he also kinda happened to be there when it happened. I mean, not when it happened, but right after, so..." He shrugged again.

Sadie nodded.

"Ok, well, that's fine. My point is, it's good that he knew. Had I been alone with you I'd have probably tried getting you to a doctor and maybe you'd have died on the way. If you can die, I mean... Anyway either that or maybe you wouldn't have been able to control yourself and had just eaten me right there and then."

Arthur frowned. She was right. People knowing was risky, but people not knowing was risky too. In this case even more so. 

"I guess you're right. But I don't think that I can tell everyone." Not Micah, that's for damn sure, he thought. And the others? Would they believe him? Would they be scared of him? 

"No, certainly not everyone. And you don't have to do it right now. But something like this could easily happen again. That's all I'm saying."

Arthur thought about that and took another look in the back. He'd been damn lucky to have both of them with him. 

\-------------


	6. Chapter 6

John was standing guard when they entered the camp.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"We saw to it that Colm swings." Sadie got off the wagon and walked around to the back. Arthur did the same. 

John looked at Dutch.

"And then?"

"Then we got ambushed. Dutch got shot and he hit his head pretty hard, but he should be alright." Arthur's heart was pounding. It sounded more or less plausible, but somehow he felt like John was looking right though it. John just shrugged, though.

"Well, at least that bastard's gone." He went back to standing guard. 

Other members of the gang had noticed their arrival and were looking uneasy. 

"Don't worry," Arthur raised his voice, trying to sound confident. Trying to sound like Dutch. "Everything went according to plan, just had a minor case of bad luck. He's gonna be fine." He turned to Mrs Grimshaw. "Could get us some food, please? And look if we still have some tonics left." She nodded and left.

Arthur and Sadie grabbed Dutch and carried him to his tent. They put him down on the cot. 

Micah stormed in right after them.

"Well, did you mess up again, cowpoke?"

Sadie turned around and went to stand in his way.

"Didn't you hear what we said? Colm's dead. And Dutch is gonna be fine. How's that messing up?"

"He doesn't look fine." 

Arthur stepped forward.

"Why don't you just leave and let him get some rest. Do something useful for once."

Micah looked from Arthur to Sadie and back. Outnumbered and with the only person ever taking his side unconscious he clearly didn't want a confrontation.

"I'll do that," he said. "Someone here has to figure out how we can all be save after all." He left.

"What an asshole." Sadie rolled her eyes. "What does Dutch see in him?"

"I wish I knew."

Look, Arthur. I'm gonna go. There's still something I need to do. And I might need your help with it."

"Sure."

She nodded.

"Alright. I'll let you know once I find out what I need." She hesitated. "Be careful and please think about what I said. You can't just let things happen. You need a plan."

Arthur nodded as he watched her walk away.

\------------

A few hours had passed. Dutch was still unconscious. He was on his cot, not moving. Arhur was sitting next to him, refusing to leave.

He had his journal on his lap, but he wasn't doing anything. He was just staring ahead. Earlier he'd been going over various maps, trying to figure out if there was any place they could go to, even if it was just for now. Just to get a little more room to breathe. But he couldn't concentrate. The longer Dutch remained unconscious the more worried he got. And the more angry. 

Arthur'd been surprised by this, but it was true. He was angry at Dutch. He'd told him to leave. He'd told him that he was scared of hurting people he cared about. And once again Dutch had decided over his head. Like so often lately Dutch had just brushed Arthur's concerns away and done what he thought was right. 

Part of Arthur knew that Dutch had only tried to help. He'd probably been thinking that Arthur was dying and didn't know what else to do. But after so many times now where Arthur had felt as though his own thoughts and wants didn't matter this was just another link in a long chain. And now that Dutch wasn't awake to talk his way out of it Arthur had plenty of time to continue down this enraging walk down memory lane. And at the same he was so scared and so sorry. He didn't know what he would do if Dutch never woke up again.

"Well, well, cowpoke. Still just sitting around?" Micah sauntered into the tent. He walked over to Dutch and bent down a little. "He still alive?"

"Of course he is." Arthur had to fight very hard not to just beat Micah to a bloody pulp right now. It would be a welcome outlet for his anger. But he knew he had to be careful.

"You know, it's strange. I mean, he was only shot." Micah looked at Arthur, fake confusion on his face. "And yet, he's still not woken up."

"He also hit his head."

"Right," Micah leaned forward and reached for Dutch's hair. There was blood in it. It was Arthur's blood, but it sure made the story a bit more believable.

It took all of Arthur's resolve not to shove Micah away. Seeing him touch Dutch while Dutch was unconscious made Arthur sick to his stomach.

"Right," Micah repeated. "He got hit on the head. Still mighty strange if you ask me."

"I'm not asking you."

"My my, aren't we testy." Micah held up his hands in mock surrender. 

Arthur sighed.

"Did you want anything? Why are you here? Weren't you about to make yourself useful for once?"

"I did just that." Micah looked very pleased with himself. "And now I need to talk to Dutch."

"About what?"

Micah raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Don't worry about that, cowpoke. We got some business to take care of."

"What kind of business?" Arthur balled his hands into fists, his nails diging into his palms. It got harder and harder to remain calm.

"Nothing that concerns you. He asked me to do some research and I did. I wanted to tell him what I found out."

Arthur focused on his breathing. So Dutch was still planning stuff with Micah. Maybe this was something they'd cooked up before he and Dutch had that talk after the Lemoyne Raiders. The thought about that stung as well. One more instant in which Dutch had put him in the middle of something without telling him. And you went in, he thought to himself. You knew something was up, but you still did what he told you.

"Well, as you can see Dutch can't talk right now. So, try again later."

Micah remained where he was, looking from Arthur to Dutch and back. Then he looked at Arthur. There was nothing playful in his gaze anymore.

"It's mighty strange this whole thing. And you two seem awfully close lately."

Arthur knew he had to be careful. Micah was the last person who he wanted to find out about him and Dutch. He just shrugged and forced himself to smile.

"We've know each other for 20 years. We've been close long before we ever even heard of you."

For a moment there was pure rage in Micah's eyes. But he got himself under control quickly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but after a few seconds he just left. Arthur sighed. It was a hollow victory and not really a solution to any of his problems.

\-----------

It was late. The camp was quiet with most people asleep. Arthur had been nodding off when he suddenly heard a faint rustling coming from the cot.

Dutch was moving. Arthur helped him sit up.

"Hey, you ok?"

Dutch slowly opened his eyes and shook his head. He seemed out of it. He didn't respond.

"Hey Dutch. Can you hear me?" Arthur patted Dutch's shoulder. After what seemed like forever Dutch's eyes seemed to focus. He looked at him.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah, I'm here. You ok?"

"I'm tired." Dutch ran a hand over his face. He looked at Arthur, his eyes widened. "Oh my God, are you ok?" He grabbed Arthur's arm and searched for the wound. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." Arthur noticed how his anger was suddenly gone, replaced by relief. He tried to fight it, he had to have a serious talk with Dutch, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that right now.

Dutch looked around. 

"How did we get here? How long was I out?"

Arthur filled him in on what happened. He gave him some tonic that should help the wound on his arm. He made him eat something. Dutch seemed to be ok. And with knowing that Arthur's anger returned.

"Micah wanted to talk to you."

He studied Dutch's face, not sure what he was looking for. Dutch was sitting on his cot, stuffing his pipe.

"What about?"

"Some secret plan you two had cooked up that I'm not supposed to know about."

Dutch looked up. He seemed startled.

"Oh, come on, Arthur. Don't give me this. We've talked about this."

"Yes. Yes, we have. And apparently it didn't matter at all." 

"This is some old business. And I would have let you in on it. There just wasn't time."

Arthur shook his head. 

"You always do this. You twist things until you come out the righteous man. We wouldn't even be talking about this if Micah hadn't opened his big mouth. You wouldn't have let me in on anything."

"Calm down, goddamnit!" Dutch pointed his finger at him, using the arm with the bandage on it, of course. "I just saved your life. How about a bit of gratitude?"

"I didn't ask you to do that! I told you to leave!"

"What the hell are you on about?"

"I could have killed you, for god's sake. Or Sadie! I almost did kill you!"

"Keep your voice down!"

Arthur got up and moved towards the entrance. He stopped and turned around, facing Dutch. 

"I told you that I was afraid of turning on people I care about. That I was afraid of turning on you. And you just did this."

"You were bleeding to death."

"You don't know that."

"I couldn't risk it."

Arthur let out a humorless chuckle. 

"Why not? You sure could risk it when Colm had me."

Dutch blinked. He lowered his eyes. Before he could say anything Arthur continued.

"You didn't look for me when I was missing. You sent me in with those Lemoyne Raiders not knowing if I could make it. But then you saw what I can do now. How good and efficient I am at killing now. I mean, I was good before, but now, it's a whole new level. And all of the sudden you can't risk my life anymore."

It hurt to hear it out loud. On some level he had known that Dutch valued people for what they could do. Specifically for what they could do for him. It hadn't always been that way or maybe it hadn't always been the only reason he cared for someone, but lately it sure seemed that way. 

He stood there looking at Dutch, waiting for something, he wasn't sure what. An apology, an explanation, another long-winded speech about all of this being about loyalty and the greater good. But Dutch didn't say anything. 

After a few minutes of heavy silence Arthur turned around and left.

\-----------


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's dubious consent in this chapter.

Arthur hadn't been in camp for days. After his fight with Dutch he'd left, not knowing where he was going, just knowing he needed some time alone. Knowing that sooner or later he'd be back, accepting whatever Dutch would tell him. He may have changed in significant ways, but he was still the same man who knew that he needed Dutch. That he would always need him. He just needed to shove that pesky feeling down that arose from time to time, that feeling that told him that he was fighting a losing battle. That he would never really get what he needed from Dutch. He just needed some goddamn faith, Arthur thought bitterly. 

He was on his way back now, though he really didn't want to face whatever might await him there. The past few days he'd been hunting and seeing if animal blood would work for his hunger. It didn't. Or if it did, he'd have to drink gallons of it and that was just not an option. He'd expected as much, but it still frustrated him. 

After the failed attempts he'd been looking for suitable people. He just couldn't risk being hungry around camp. Even if he was able to control the situation at hand, he couldn't control what might happen next. And Sadie had been right, people not knowing what was going with him was risky and dangerous. 

He'd found a few Murfrees, really more than enough of those around, he thought. And some guy who was riding around with a tied up woman on the back of his horse also seemed like a perfect candidate. Arthur soon realized that this was just the same as any other kind of killing. It seemed revolting at first, but he got used to it. And he got good at it. Dutch would be so proud, he thought. And part of him wanted Dutch to be proud. He wanted Dutch to look at him like he had after he'd killed those Lemoyne Raiders. Like he was the most perfect thing in the world. 

As long as he could remember Dutch had always had that kind of hold over him. Even before they had ever started having sex. That had come later. He'd been 22 the first time it had happened.They'd just gotten away from a successful stagecoach robbery. Arthur'd managed to kill all four guards with perfect headshots. He'd noticed Dutch's looks of admiration, but hadn't really been able to fully comprehend that something had just changed.

"Aren't we going back to Hosea?" Arthur was confused. Dutch had stopped and they were still a far way from camp. 

"No, we shouldn't go there right now. We need to wait a bit. Wouldn't wanna lead anyone there."

"There's noone left alive we could lead there." That earned him an intense look he didn't know how to interpret.

"Better save than sorry, Arthur. Trust me." With that Dutch rode on and Arthur followed.

It was almost dark when they stopped again. Arthur looked around and made out a small cave, the entrance well hidden.

"We can stay here tonight," Dutch said. He sounded strange.

They made up camp and ate something. Dutch took out a bottle of whiskey and held it up.

"To us!" He smiled. Arthur smiled as well. He was relieved. Dutch seemed more like himself again. For a while Arthur thought he'd done something wrong, something to upset him. They started drinking and didn't stop until the bottle was empty. Arthur drank most of it. He felt good. Dutch was proud of him and that was the best feeling in the world. He was thinking about Hosea and that he'd be proud as well when he suddenly felt Dutch's hands on his shoulders. He turned his head and Dutch pressed his lips against Arthur's. 

For a few seconds Arthur froze. His mind was completely blank. Then he shoved at Dutch and turned his head to the side.

"What are you doing?" His voice was shaking. He tried to move away from Dutch, but Dutch grabbed his wrists and pulled him closer. The sudden movement made Arthur dizzy. 

"Do you trust me, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded. He couldn't help but think that he just answered a different question than the one Dutch had actually asked. Just then Dutch kissed him again. Arthur's body stiffened but he didn't shove him off again. In a way this was exciting. Dutch slowly pushed at him until he was on his back. Then Dutch moved to straddle him. Arthur's heart started pounding when he felt Dutch's hard cock through his pants. He pulled on his wrists, but Dutch's grip was relentless.

A few seconds later though Dutch released one of Arthur's wrists. His hand wandered down to Arthur's waist tugging at his shirt. Arthur realized that he was hard as well. And he was enjoying what was going on. He was still scared, but that wasn't anything new when it came to doing things with Dutch. Be it robberies or scams or... this. Being scared was just part of the deal and he'd accepted that years ago. He just had to follow Dutch's lead and then it would end up being good. It always did.

He was proven right when he felt Dutch reaching into his pants and grabbing his cock. The feeling was almost too much, it had been a long time since anyone had touched him. And it had never felt like this. Because nobody else was like them, knew what they knew, lived the way they lived. It didn't take long till Arthur came with a muffled groan. 

After a few moments Dutch kissed him again and then pulled Arthur's hand towards his own crotch, letting him return the favor. When Dutch came he collapsed on top of Arthur and stayed there for a while. Arthur enjoyed having him close, but at the same time he felt uneasy. What would happen next? How could they just go on after this?

At last Dutch sat up and moved away from Arthur. He grabbed two cigarettes, handing one to Arthur. He lit them.

"You did good, Arthur," he said, letting the smoke out while staring into the fire.

Arthur didn't know what to say. He finally settled for "Thanks."

They smoked in silence. 

"Noone can ever know." Was all Dutch said before they went to sleep.

\-----------

Arthur reached Beaver Hollow in the late afternoon. He was debating whether he should go see Dutch first thing or try to ignore him. Make him make a move first. But his thoughts were interrupted.

"Hey, Arthur!" Sadie was standing near the horses, waving him over. 

Arthur dismounted and approached her.

"Hi, Sadie."

"Hi. So, I found what I was looking for."

"And what was that?"

"The last of the damn O'Driscolls. They have a hideout near Strawberry called Hanging Dog ranch."

"Is that so?"

"Yep, and I'm gonna kill them all."

"Is this where you ask for my help?"

Sadie smiled.

"It is. I could do it myself, but there's a lot of them, so it would be saver to have someone watching my back."

Arthur sighed. He still thought their first priority should be getting out of this camp and somewhere far away from the Pinkertons who seemed to be around every corner. But he owed it to Sadie.

"Sure, I'll help."

"Great! And just look at it as me inviting you out for dinner." 

Arthur was caught by surprise but still had to laugh.

"Oh good," Sadie smirked. "I see it's ok to joke about it."

"Well, wouldn't do much good not to, I suppose." 

Arthur caught some movement in the camp. He looked and saw Dutch and Micah sitting together, talking. Dutch was gesturing vividely. Arthur felt ice cold all of the sudden. He knew that he needed to confront Dutch, the sooner the better. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it now. 

"Alright then, let's go," he said and started walking towards his horse.

"Right now?" Sadie sounded surprised, but shrugged. "Alright."

They mounted their horses and rode off.

\-------------

Just like in Saint Denis Arthur was amazed at how much easier it was now to shoot people. Hanging Dog Ranch was full of O'Driscolls, but between him and Sadie they were no match. In almost no time they'd cleared the ones outside. Arthur went into the barn and put his rifle away. He finished off the last ones in there with his hands and teeth. It was such a rush. The feeling of being more alive than ever, the feeling of everything falling into place. He knew that wouldn't last, but it was intoxicating nonetheless.

Once he was done he went to the main house looking for Sadie. He arrived just in time to see her gut the last bastard. She got up, covered in blood, looking at him. He no doubt looked the same. 

Arthur grabbed a turned over chair and offered it to Sadie. 

"You ok?"

"Yeah. He was a good man, my Jakey." She sat down. "We was always sweet on one another."

"I'm sure."

"I miss him every day, every moment.They turned me into a monster, Arthur! But my memories of him. Those are still pure." She looked up at him. "You know, apart from him, you're the best man I've known."

"Well, I know the company you keep. The competition ain't too fierce." 

He smiled. But he had to think again about the Lemoyne Raiders he had torn apart. And how Dutch had looked at him, because he had turned into a monster. Sadie didn't like what she had become. She could live it and she would, but it would never measure up to her old life. Arthur wasn't quite sure how he felt about what he'd become. He couldn't lie to himself though, he'd loved the way Dutch had looked at him. And even though it hurt to know that only now Dutch seemed to actually value him, he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

He'd learned long ago that he would never get from Dutch what he actually wanted. That he would only get bits and pieces. He'd mostly made his peace with that. Now things had changed and he might finally be able to get what he always wanted, albeit it coming with a price. Namely the knowledge that he simply hadn't been enough. That there'd been something missing. 

"Listen, Arthur. I need to be alone for a while." Sadie got up and wiped her face. 

"Sure."

They left the house and Sadie mounted her horse.

"I'll see you." And she was off.

Arthur left as well. He rode around for a bit, lost in thought. This was a nice secluded spot. There were more than 20 O'Driscolls on that Ranch and they must have been there for a long time. And yet, noone had known about it. It was a perfect hideout. And it was big. His thoughts were interupted when he heard voices. 

"Hey, you alright, mister? Can we help you?"

Arthur looked up and saw two men sitting on the porch of a tree house.

"I'm fine," he paused. "Oh, I know you two." He smiled to himself. He had been wondering what had happened to Mr. Black and Mr. White. If he was honest he'd been sure they'd been caught again. "I barely recognized you two on account you not trying to kill each other."

"Well, someone learned his manners." Mr. Black gestured towards Mr. White. "Finally."

"So, you didn't run away?"

"Noone looking out here. I reckon we're ok."

"Alright. Though the law is pretty vigorous these days." But maybe this really was a save spot, at least relatively speaking, Arthur thought. He half heard them getting into another argument, but was mostly focused on his previous train of thought. So, they'd managed to hide out here with success. And all those O'Driscolls had been just fine on Hanging Dog Ranch. And the Ranch was empty now, there for the taking. It might be worth a shot.

Arthur turned his horse around. He'd have to talk to Dutch about it. This might actually work.

\-----------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I know that the law is searching right after that mission, but I'll just ignore that. Both the O'Driscolls and Mr. Black and Mr. White were able to hide there successfully after all.)


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur arrived back in Beaver Hollow in the morning. He'd made camp on his way back once, getting some much needed sleep. He'd noticed that he now could go longer stretches without sleep, but eventually exhaustion would catch up with him. Well rested he felt ready to take on that conversation with Dutch. It wouldn't be easy to convince him to move, but he was sure that he could at least get him to check out the ranch.

On his way to Dutch's tent John was coming up to him.

"Hey Arthur."

"John."

"Dutch wanted me to tell you to meet him in Annesburg across from the post office as soon as you can."

Arthur cursed inwardly. What now? Another harebrained scheme? Another reckless plan that would get them deeper and deeper into trouble? If that was even possible at this point.

"Did he say why?"

John shook his head. 

"No. Just that you should hurry." He frowned. "Arthur, we need to get out of here."

"I know, I'm working on it. I found this place. Well, Sadie found it. It might work. I just need to convince Dutch."

John pressed his lips together and exhaled. He looked over to Abgail and Jack. Then he looked back at Arthur.

"You sure you can convince of him of anything? He's pretty far gone."

Arthur shrugged. He honestly didn't know. He'd been so sure they'd turned a corner back when they had that talk after the Lemoyne Raiders. He'd actually believed Dutch might start trusting him again. Listening to his advice. But now. Maybe he'd ruined that by starting the fight after Dutch saved him. At least that might be how Dutch saw it. I shouldn't have left, Arthur thought. Now Micah had a few more days to get into Dutch's head.

"I ain't giving up hope yet. And neither should you." Arthur looked over to Abigail and Jack as well. "Look out for them. If things really go off the rails you take them and run." He looked at John. "Promise me that."

John hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded.

"Well, I'll see what he wants," Arthur muttered and mounted his horse again.

\------------

Arthur dismounted and walked towards the houses across from the post office. He more felt than saw someone approaching him. He turned around just to see Micah coming at him, grabbing him and yelling like a lunatic.

"Was you followed? Was you followed?" 

Disgusted by the contact and annoyed by the theatrics Arthur gave Micah one push that sent him stumbling backwards until his back hit a wall. Micah narrowed his eyes. 

Shit, Arthur thought. For a second he'd forgotten how much stronger he was now. He needed to be more careful when he was around that slimy bastard. He quickly put on a fake grin.

"What's the matter, Mr. Bell? Feeling a bit faint? Should I bring you some water? Or some smelling salts?"

"Shut up, cowpoke! You're lucky I-"

"Oh my god, would you two shut up!" Dutch came up towards them. "I swear, it's like dealing with a bunch of children."

Arthur turned to Dutch and had to fight the urge to grab him and pull him close. He'd missed him. He'd learned to live without Dutch's affection for a long time, but now that they'd gotten closer again it was hard being away from him. Even when he was angry at him and part of him wanted to punch his face in. He shook his head. No time for this now. He needed to focus on whatever Dutch had summoned him here for.

"What's this about, Dutch? What are we doing here?"

Dutch looked at him and Artur had no idea how to read him. He didn't seem angry. He didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary had happened. Apart from the bandage on his arm. Arthur's stomach dropped when he was reminded of that. How Sadie had to pull him away from Dutch because he just couldn't stop on his own. He still remembered how good it had tasted. How good Dutch had tasted. 

"We're gonna have a little talk with Mr. Cornwall."

Arthur groaned. 

"No, no, not another stupid revenge mission, goddamnit." 

"Shut up, cowpoke. This is about money."

Arthur turned around and gave Micah another less forcefull push. 

"Don't tell me to shut up, asshole. You shut up!"

"How about you both shut up!" Dutch grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him away from Micah. "I'm sick and tired of arguing with you. I'm still the leader here and you'll do what I goddamn tell you." He turned to Micah. "And I don't wanna hear anything from you, either. Let's go."

He turned around and started walking, Micah right behind him. Arthur sighed and followed them.

They arrived near the river and got down behind a few crates. Shortly after Cornwall and some Pinkertons appeared. Cornwall was apparently not happy with his investment in the Pinkertons. Well, that's something, Arthur thought. If we stay out of their way for a bit longer they might lose their funding.

Just then he noticed a subtle change in Dutch's stance. He seemed ready to get up, right when they were surrounded by Pinktertons. Arthur silently hurried over, ingnoring Micah's whispers. He knelt down behind Dutch and put one hand over his mouth. His other arm went around Dutch's torso, holdng him in place. Dutch struggled, but he soon realized that he was no match for Arthur's strength. He still tried to talk, but Arthur just pressed his hand on his mouth more tightly.

"Shut. Up." He hissed. He prayed that Micah would keep quiet, but didn't dare to take his eyes from Cornwall and the Pinkertons. They continued their talk and finally dispersed. Arthur kept holding Dutch for a while longer until he was sure that Cornwall was far enough away. Then he let go.

"What the hell was that?" Dutch turned around and pushed Arthur away from him. He got up and looked down on him, his eyes dark with rage. Arthur got up slowly.

"I could ask you the same thing. What was your plan here? A confrontation in the middle of the day? How would that have helped our situation?"

Dutch exhaled deeply and he suddenly looked very tired. He seemed lost. And he seemed to realize that he'd been about to do something stupid. Otherwise he'd be putting up more of a fight. In a way Arthur was relieved. There was still a chance he might get through to him. But he was still suspicious. This had been a bit too easy and he couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom.

"I'm trying the best I can here, Arthur. Why won't you believe me?"

"Because it doesn't look like it would help. What ever you were just trying to do."

Dutch ran his hand through his hair. Arthur noticed how his fingers were trembling. 

"Listen," Arthur took one step forward. "I've found something I wanna show you. It may be nothing, but it's worth a look."

Dutch looked at him. After a moment he nodded.

"Oh, yes. Show us what you got." Micah sneered. 

"No," Arthur shook his head. "Not you." 

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I say so."

"Who made you boss, you-"

"Enough!" 

They both stopped dead in their tracks and looked back at Dutch. 

Dutch was shaking his head. 

"Micah, go back to camp. Wait there."

Micah opened his mouth, but closed it again when he saw Dutch ball his hands into fists. He shot one more glare at Arthur and walked away. 

They stood there, not talking, not really daring to look at each other.

"You came back," Dutch finally said.

Arthur frowned.

"Of course I did."

"I wasn't sure. You seemed so angry." 

"I was." Arthur shrugged. He didn't know what else to say. Yes, he'd been angry. But he would always find his way back to Dutch. He knew that. He was surprised that Dutch didn't seem to know that as well. He took a step forward and reached out to touch Dutch's arm, the one with the badage on it. 

"How is it?"

"It's fine."

"I'm sorry."

Dutch looked up at him. 

"It's not your fault."

"I still hurt you, though. And I could have easily killed you."

"Yeah, well, you didn't." Dutch pulled his arm back. "And it wasn't that bad." That last part was said so softly Arthur almost didn't hear it. 

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Not at first." Dutch looked uncomfortable and he quickly changed the topic. "So, what is it that you want to show me?"

Arthur hesitated. He wanted to know what that meant 'not at first'. But he also knew that if Dutch didn't want to talk about something, then he simply wouldn't.

"A ranch. Former O'Driscoll hideout. Might be worth checking out. Maybe we can get out of Hillbilly country and put some distance between us and the Pinkertons."

Dutch nodded.

"Alright. Lead the way."

\------------

"Maybe we should get some sleep." They'd been riding for hours and it was already dark. Arthur knew that there was still a way to go and Dutch looked exhausted. Arthur didn't know how long he'd been up, but there were dark circles under Dutch's eyes.

"How much further is it?"

"Still a bit. It's north of Strawberry." Arthur scratched his neck. They'd just passed Valentine.

"Yeah, maybe we should stop." 

They made camp and lit a small fire. Arthur took out some food and handed it to Dutch. They ate in silence. 

"How'd you come across that ranch?"

Arthur almost flinched. He'd been deep in thought and it took him a while to answer.

"Sadie found it. She wanted to make sure that there were no more O'Driscolls out there."

"Is that right?" Dutch sounded impressed and he had a tiny smile on his face. Like a proud father, Arthur thought.

"Yeah. Once we were done I figured it was a good spot to lay low. At least for a while. Those O'Driscolls hid just fine there."

Dutch nodded. He reached out and put another piece of wood on the fire. Before he could pull his arm back Arthur grabbed it. Dutch flinched, but he didn't pull away. Arthur slowly took off the bandage. There was the cut Dutch had made, but it was closed now. And there were faint bitemarks. Arthur opened his satchel and took out some ointment. He applied it to the wounds and put the bandage back on. He released the arm. 

"What did you mean when you said 'not at first'?" he asked without looking at Dutch. He waited. He didn't really expect an answer, but after a few moments Dutch replied.

"It didn't hurt at first. I mean, it hurt when I cut myself, of course, but-" Dutch licked his lips. He looked into the fire, his fingers playing with a small loose end of the bandage. "When you started drinking. It didn't hurt then. It actually felt really good." 

He said the last part very softly. As if he wasn't really sure what he was saying. Or maybe he was ashamed of it. Of liking it. Arthur felt very warm all of the sudden, remembering again how good Dutch had tasted. How it was so much more and so much better than any other man he'd drunk from. He'd been pretty out of it at the beginning, though.

"But then," Dutch continued and he seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. "Then it got uncomfortable and I started feeling dizzy. And then when you didn't stop it felt like my arm was on fire. I mean, it was strange. It felt like nothing I've felt before."

Arthur wanted to say that he was sorry, but they'd already been there. He tried to wrap his head around what Dutch had said. He cleared his throat.

"I don't remember all of it. I don't remember how I started drinking. But, well, I remember suddenly feeling better and stronger and tasting something that was better than anything I ever tasted before." He stopped, unsure how to proceed. "I mean, I drank the blood from a few other people before that, but that wasn't the same. I don't know why. I just know that at that moment I couldn't stop." He stopped again, but willed himself to go on. "Sadie pulled me off you. Once I realized what had happened... I'm so sorry." There it was again. He was apparently unable to stop saying it.

They both stared into the fire. Arthur lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. 

"So, we both liked it." Dutch's voice sounded unsure. The statement hanging in the air like a question they both knew the answer to. 

"I guess. I mean, yeah." Arthur frowned. It wasn't as simple as that. Yes, it had tasted amazing, but the feeling of not being in control had been terrifying. He didn't quite understand what Dutch was getting at.

"Would you- I mean, would you want to do it again?" Dutch tore his eyes away from the fire and looked at Arthur. 

Arthur was confused at first. What was that supposed to mean? He needed blood to survive and Dutch had made a panicked decision and helped him out when he needed it. What about that was something they could just repeat? He met Dutch's gaze and was amazed at the openess and honesty he saw there. No smirk, no mask with calculating thoughts behind it. Just Dutch. Asking him for something he wanted. Actually asking him. Not assuming it was okay to just take it. 

Arthur had to think of the Lemoyne Raiders and how they'd had sex afterwards. How Dutch had fallen apart when Arthur scraped his neck with his teeth. Oh, he thought. But for him the image of Dutch against the wall in that small cabin morphed into the Dutch in the Guarma dream who screamed when Arthur tore his throat out. He closed his eyes at the thought. He wanted to give Dutch what he asked for, but he didn't know if he could. 

He opened his eyes. Dutch was still looking at him. Arthur cleared his throat.

"I don't know. Maybe."

Dutch's face lit up and he nodded. 

"Okay." He smiled. Arthur smiled as well, but he felt like crying. He felt backed into a corner with no way out. He averted his eyes and busied himself putting down his bedroll.

"Let's get some sleep now. We still got a long ride ahead of us."

\------------


	9. Chapter 9

The sun was rising and Arthur looked at Dutch who was still asleep. Arthur hadn't really slept. He hadn't been tired and Dutch seemed to need some sleep a lot more than him. Plus their conversation still had him upset and nervous. He spent most of the night trying to think of a solution, coming up with nothing. 

Arthur sighed and leaned forward. He shook Dutch's shoulder.

"Come on. Wake up." 

Dutch stirred and opened his eyes. Arthur frowned. It wasn't like Dutch to not be alert as soon he woke up. He must have really been exhausted, more so than he'd let on. 

Dutch sat up slowly, blinking his eyes. Arthur handed him some coffee. 

"How are you doing?" 

Dutch drank some coffee. He put down the cup and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm fine."

"You sure? You seem tired."

"It's been a long couple of days."

"Making plans with Micah?" Arthur almost bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Damn. They'd just had reached some sort of understanding and he didn't want to ruin it again. But to his surprise Dutch didn't seem angry.

"In a way." He picked up the cup again and emptied it. "He was telling the truth when he said that it was about money. Back there in Annesburg." 

"What exactly were to trying to do there?" Arthur voice was soft. He wasn't angry, he just wanted to understand. There'd been a time when he felt that he understood Dutch. A time when Dutch was the only thing making sense in a world that seemed dead set against him. He realized that he missed that. That feeling of certainty, of clarity. 

Dutch sighed. He didn't answer, but Arthur could tell that he was thinking, trying to explain. Finally he shrugged.

"I honestly don't know. I mean I know what I was aiming to do, confronting Cornwall and maybe kill him. It seemed to make sense. But I just- It feels like the thoughts of someone else."

I bet it does, like Micah's, Arthur thought to himself. Dutch looked at him.

"I'm glad you stopped me."

"Is Micah still gonna persue that plan of yours?"

"He probably would, but it's too late now. That was the perfect opportunity to get at Cornwall and there won't be another one."

Arthur wasn't so sure. Micah was a stubborn son of a bitch. He didn't say that, though. Wouldn't matter now. Dutch cleared his throat.

"How are you doing? I mean, with everything."

Arthur was surprised and he had to admit, pleased. They had talked about making sense of his condition together, but with everything going on that had been pushed aside. The question added to his relief. It made him feel like Dutch had still been thinking about him even when they'd been apart.

"I'm ok. I guess. I mean, as far as this goes I think I know a bit more about what I need to do." He drank some coffee. Dutch was waiting for him to continue. "I tried animal blood."

"And?" If Dutch was revolted he hid it well.

"Didn't work. It's just not the same." Arthur sighed. It was difficult to explain this. In a way he was healthy now and stronger. His senses were hightenend, he was a better shot. And otherwise fatal wounds would just heal completely. But on the other hand he was also very vulnerable. The healing only worked when he got fresh blood. And he couldn't be complety sure he'd be in control in a situation like that. "I need to make sure not to get too hungry. If I get hurt my body seems to be need blood to heal and if there's not enough in me, then I- I don't know if I can die, but it fucking hurts and I can't control my actions anymore." He hesitated. "That's why I couldn't stop with you."

Dutch nodded.

"I see. So, your new found health and power came with a price."

"Exactly."

"Well, I guess strength, health and being more or less invulnerable without any downside would have been too much to ask."

"I didn't ask at all." Arthur felt defensive. Even though he knew he'd been lucky so get rid of the TB, he felt like he'd made a mess by changing into something so different.

"I know. I didn't mean it like that." Dutch was fiddling with his now empty cup. "Listen, I'm- I'm sorry for not- That I wasn't there for you more. Lately. And before, when you were sick. I want to make it up to you. If you let me."

Arthur couldn't help smiling at that. He felt like a big weight was lifted from his shoulders. He also berated himself for believing Dutch. For thinking, hoping that things would get better. He tried to shove those thoughts down. If he couldn't hope anymore then it would all be truly over.

"Thanks," he said. 

They packed up their things and mounted their horses.

\-----------

They arrived at Hanging Dog Ranch in the afternoon. It was still littered with corpses. Wild animals had gotten to some of them. It wasn't a pretty picture.

"Well, this looks cozy." Dutch got off his horse and looked around. Arthur dismounted as well. Dutch looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "You and Ms Adler did all this?" 

Arthur nodded. Dutch looked like a proud father again.

"So, what do you think?"

"Seems great." Dutch started walking towards the main house. "Let's take a look inside."

"Jesus Christ." Dutch was staring at the dead man upstairs, Sadie's final kill. After a moment he shrugged. "I'm sure he got what he deserved."

"He did," Arthur said. He didn't elaborate. 

"Well," Dutch bent down and grabbed the body. "Let's clean this place up. No need to attract more scavengers."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. 

"So, we're moving here?" 

"Sure." Dutch started dragging the corpse to the stairs. He put it down and gave it kick, then watched it tumbling down the stairs. "It's just like you said. Perfect."

\--------------

It was getting dark when they dragged out the last bodies. Arthur started a fire in the fire place and Dutch dusted off the old sofa as best he could. They both fell down on it, utterly exhausted.

"Home sweet home," Dutch said. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Arthur hummed in agreement. He was tired. But happy. Things were still a mess, but this actually went well. 

His mood changed though when he realized that he was hungry. That kind of hungry. It wasn't very strong, but it was definitely there. He felt a knot in his stomach. He should leave and take care of it. But there was no way Dutch wouldn't know immediately what was going on. And he'd made a promise to Dutch. He couldn't just run away from that. He found that he didn't want to. Even though the thought made him nervous, he was also excited for it in a way.

He leaned back as well and tried to enjoy this moment, knowing it wouldn't last much longer. He was filled with dread when he thought about Dutch's request. 

Arthur felt the sofa shift when Dutch got up. He stayed where he was, trapped with his thoughts. It didn't take long and he felt Dutch sit down again, this time closer to him. Arthur openend his eyes ans saw Dutch holding out a bottle of whiskey.

"To us," he said. 

Arthur took the bottle and looked at it. He remembered that evening in Van Horn. How he had poured down drink after drink without even getting slightly tipsy. He handed the bottle back.

"I'm afraid that's wasted on me now," he said. When he saw Dutch's look he elaborated. "Doesn't work anymore. I could drink the entire bottle and I wouldn't get drunk at all."

Dutch looked disappointed and even a bit sad, but he caught himself quickly. 

"Sorry to hear that. Another downside it would seem." He opened the bottle and took a swig. He looked at the bottle. "I wouldn't know what to do if I couldn't get drunk at least once in a while."

Arthur knew what he meant. Alcohol could be an escape. Sure, he wasn't the best in handling it and he'd often made his problems worse by getting completely shitfaced, but it was nice knowing that there was a way to shut up all those pesky voices in your head. Even if it was just for a moment. He missed it. And right now he felt like he needed it. He got up and went outside. In his saddle bags he found a bottle of moonshine. He'd gotten it a while ago, but had never tried it. Didn't feel like a good idea to drink that stuff when you were already dying. But now seemed as good a time as any.

He went back inside and sat down next to Dutch. After inspecting the bottle for a bit he opened it and took a big swig. He could feel the effect almost immediately. God, that stuff was strong. Dutch looked at him and he seemed amused.

"Is it working?"

Arthur just nodded. He tried to say something, but the moonshine burned in his throat and he started coughing. When he got it under control there were tears in his eyes. He blinked and looked at Dutch.

"Yeah, it works."

They kept drinking in silence for a while. When the bottle was half empty, Arthur put it down. His head felt like it was packed with cotton. He enjoyed letting his mind wander without constantly trying to solve problems. He heard a faint sound and looked to his side. Dutch was placing his bottle on the ground as well. Judging by his movements he was pretty drunk himself.

"You ok there, Dutch?"

Dutch nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He paused, looking into the fire. "How about you?"

"Pretty good actually. I'm happy to report that this stuff really works."

"Good. That's good." Another pause. "Cleaning up this place was pretty exhausting. You hungry?"

There it is, Arthur thought. But he was ready. While drinking and relaxing he'd calmed down and made peace with his decision to give this a try. It was what Dutch wanted and he'd never be able to deny him anything. And he was kind of curious and excited himself. The last time had mostly been a blur, but he remembered that it was amazing. Right before it went too far. They just had to be careful. He was still pretty nervous, though.

"A bit." He shifted, not sure how to act. 

"I see. You want to do something about it?"

Arthur looked at Dutch and saw his hopeful gaze. He nodded.

"Yeah. But are you sure? We have to be careful. Nobody's here to help you if I lose control."

"I trust you."

Wish I could trust myself, Arthur thought, but he didn't say it. 

"So, where- I mean we should pick a spot noone would see."

Dutch held out his unbandaged arm and rolled up the sleeve. He hesitated for a moment. When he spoke he didn't look Arthur in the eyes.

"Can we try without cutting? I want you to bite me."

Arthur almost felt sober at that. And excited. He hadn't anticipated this kind of reaction. 

"Sure," he said.

Dutch got closer and held his arm in front of Arthur's face. Arthur took Dutch's arm in his hands. He looked at him and Dutch nodded. Arthur took a deep breath and opened his mouth. His teeth broke the skin easily and Dutch hissed. When Arthur tried to pull back, though, he shook his head.

"No, it's fine, keep going."

Arthur felt blood on his tongue and stopped biting. He started to slowly suck on the wound, tasting again the most wonderful taste in the world. He forced himself to stay calm, to go slow. Dutch moaned. His eyes were closed and he didn't seem in pain anymore. Dutch's other hand came to rest on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur allowed himself to drink faster, just a little. He felt Dutch's hand wander from his shoulder to the back of his head. Dutch grabbed Arthur's hair and softly pushed his head forward. Arthur had to close his eyes, it just felt so good. He heard Dutch's breath coming faster. 

"That's it. That's it," Dutch said lowly, his voice rough. 

Arthur realized that he was hard, but the feeling of Dutch's blood in his mouth still dominated all his senses. He didn't feel drunk at all anymore, it was as if the blood had sobered him up immediately. He felt a different kind of high now. Everything was perfect. He'd never felt so close to Dutch before, this was everything he'd ever wanted. He felt Dutch's breath hot on the side of his face. He never wanted this to end. 

After what seemed like an eternity Arthur felt Dutch's fingers in his hair tightening and pulling his head back softly.

"Ok, ok, that's enough. Please stop." Dutch's voice sounded rough, but not strained.

Arthur stopped. He let go of Dutch's arm and let himself fall back against the sofa. He felt Dutch doing the same. For a while the only sound was them catching their breath.

\------------


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur's mind was still buzzing and he felt amazing, full of energy. Not just from the blood and the sensation it had caused, but also from the closeness to Dutch he was now feeling stronger than ever. He allowed himself to bask in that glow for a while longer, feeling content, feeling whole. Then he looked over at Dutch and his heart almost stopped.

Dutch had seemed fine just minutes ago, but now he looked pale and sickly. His eyes were closed and his breathing which had been heavy was now almost shallow. Arthur moved closer and touched his shoulder. He shook it.

"Dutch?"

No response.

"Dutch?" Arthur voice was louder, it sounded deafening in his ears. Like it was the only sound in the world. He reached out with his other hand and touched Dutch's cheek. It felt cold.

"Dutch!" This time Arthur was yelling.

"Mmmhhh." Dutch half opened his eyes. And it seemed to take a lot of effort for him to even do that.

"Hey, are you ok?" Stupid question! Arthur cursed inwardly. You fucking idiot, you knew this was a dumb idea, he thought. You were lucky he survived the first time and now you've done it again, you damn monster!

"'m fine," Dutch mumbled. 

"You don't seem fine. How are you feeling? Can you move?"

For a horribly long moment nothing happened. But then Dutch seemed to gather all his strength and sat up a bit straighter. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He ran his hand over his face and blinked, forcing his eyes open.

"I'm fine, really. Just tired, I guess." 

"You should eat something." Arthur got up and looked though their supplies. He came back with some dried meat and some crackers. He watched anxiously as Dutch slowly ate some of it. It took some time, but Arthur was relieved to see that Dutch looked a little less pale.

"Let me see your arm."

Dutch raised his arm and Arthur took a look at the bite. It wasn't too deep, but still unmistakenly a bite. Arthur sighed, he put some salve on it the wound and wrapped a bandage around the arm. Which now matched the other one, he thought.

"I think you should rest," Arthur said. "Let's get you upstairs." He was feeling uneasy. The panic had ceased, but he wasn't happy about this and the feeling of absolute joy he'd been experiencing only moments before was gone. He expected Dutch to protest, but he just nodded.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dutch attempted to get up, but couldn't really make it. 

"Come here," Arthur held out his hand and Dutch grabbed it. Arthur pulled him up and threw Dutch's arm over his shoulder. They walked towards the stairs.

"Think you can manage it?" 

Dutch didn't reply right away and Arthur took that as a 'no'. 

"Alright," he said. He bent down and threw Dutch over his shoulder. There was some mumbled protest, but Arthur chose to ignore it. He was amazed. It was as if Dutch was weighing nothing at all. He'd carried him once before, years ago. Seemed like a lifetime ago now. He'd been younger then and he remembered how heavy Dutch had been. He also remembered how scared he'd been back then that Dutch would die. He was scared now as well, there was no point in denying that. 

He carefully carried Dutch upstairs and put him down on one of the beds. Dutch shifted a bit, but otherwise he didn't move. He seemed half asleep. Arthur hesitated. Maybe rest was the best thing for Dutch right now. But he was worried. What if he wouldn't wake up again? He reached out and put his hand on Dutch's forehead. He didn't feel too hot or too cold and there was some color in his face.

"Stop it. I'm fine, really." Dutch didn't open his eyes.

"Well, you don't look fine. I knew this was a bad idea. I should never have-"

"I said stop it." Dutch's eyes were open now and he turned his head to look at Arthur. "Yes, I'm tired and exhausted now, but what we did- It was amazing. Even better than the time before and I don't regret it at all. So, stop worrying." He paused. "I should have stopped you earlier, but I didn't want it to end. That's on me. That's not your fault. And I'm sorry." He closed his eyes again. "Just stay here with me, please."

Arthur hesitated for a moment. Dutch's confession did something to him he didn't quite understand. He was relieved to know that Dutch seemed to be able to recognize his limit. But what good was that, if he just ignored it? At the same time Arthur was glad that he had been able to stop without any problem, that was something at least.

At last he did as Dutch told him and went to lie down behind him. He wasn't tired at all. In fact, he was wide awake. But he wouldn't pass up a chance to be close to Dutch. And this way I can keep checking his pulse, he thought a tad bitterly. He threw an arm over Dutch's waist and willed himself to calm down.

\------------

Arthur opened his eyes. He must have fallen asleep after all. It was't dark anymore and Dutch was gone. 

Arthur almost jumped out of the bed. His heart was pounding. 

Then he heard some sounds from downstairs. He got up and walked down. Dutch was gathering up their things.

"There you are. I was about to wake you up." 

Arthur frowned. Dutch looked better, great even. He wasn't pale anymore and he moved normally, no sign of fatigue or exhaustion.

"You ok?" Arthur asked, hardly able to believe his eyes.

"Yes, great even," Dutch looked at him and smiled. "I told you not to worry."

Arthur just shrugged. He didn't want to discuss this anymore. It was no use. He'd always end up doing what Dutch wanted anyway, why fight it?

"We're heading out? 

Dutch nodded.

"Yes, I figure the sooner, the better. We'll go back to camp and move them all over here."

Arthur took a deep breath. He knew it was pointless, but he had to try.

"We shouldn't take Micah."

Dutch stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned towards Arthur and his gaze was cold. Gone was the elation and the familiar warmth. It was like standing in front of a completely different person. Arthur had to fight the urge to take a step back.

"Don't start this again." 

"I don't trust him. And I think you have your doubts as well. Come on now. Just admit it. We have a chance here to start over. Well, in a way at least. If we take him with us, things will just get worse and worse."

Dutch exhaled slowly. It was obvious that he was close to yelling.

"We need every man we got, Arthur. There are Pinkertons after us and we need to be able to defend ourselves."

"Micah is not a guy who believes in defending anything. He always takes the offensive and it has gotten out of control many many times. You can't tell me, you haven't noticed."

Dutch took a step closer to Arthur.

"This isn't up for debate. I'm telling you what we will do and that's it. You got that?"

In that moment Arthur wanted nothing more than to throw Dutch against the wall and hit him until he saw reason. But he wouldn't do that. And Dutch knew that as well. 

"Fine. I guess I can start looking for yet another hideout right away since this one won't last a week."

Arthur grabbed his things and turned around. He walked to the door.

\------------

The ride back was tense. They didn't talk and didn't make any stops. Arthur tried to find the right words to convince Dutch that they really shouldn't trust Micah with their new location, but he came up with nothing. He was surprised by the amount of disappointment he felt. He'd honestly thought he could get through to Dutch, but maybe he'd just been high on his blood. 

When they arrived at Beaver Hollow they were greeted by Sadie. Dutch nodded at her and rode ahead. Arthur stopped.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Hanging Dog Ranch." 

She raised her eyebrows. 

"Why?" 

"Figured it would be a good place to lay low. At least for now." He frowned. "Are you ok with that?" He felt stupid. With everything on his mind he hadn't even considered that Sadie might not want to stay there.

She shrugged, her face unreadable.

"It's fine, I guess." She sighed. "I mean, I'm not thrilled, but it's a good location and well. To be honest, we need to get out of here."

"Did something happen?"

"Not really. At least not yet, but Micah-" She narrowed her eyes and for a moment Arthur was pleased to see someone hate Micah just as much as he did. "He just keeps stirring up shit. I had to get between him and John more than once since you two had been gone. Don't quite know why. Should have let John just beat him to death and be done with it."

"I know what you mean." Arthur dismounted and looked around. "Where is the bastard?"

"Arthur!" Dutch's voice cut through him like a knife. "Get over here!"

Arthur gave Sadie a look and started walking into camp.

"What's up?"

"Bill tells me that Micah is waiting at this empty house near Van Horn. Apparently he has a lead on some stagecoach."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"And I'm supposed to help him with that? Seriously?"

"No!" Dutch looked at him and he was seething. "I want you to get him, so that we can get out of here. Like we discussed. You hear me?"

Arthur was taken aback. On the one hand he was glad that he wouldn't have to go and do another stupid doomed to fail plan with Micah. But on the other hand he didn't want that rat bastard coming with them. But looking at Dutch he knew there was no point in arguing.

"Sure," he said and turned around. 

\-------------

Arthur approached the house and he could see Micah sitting on the porch. He was already sick of this and wanted nothing more than to just shoot him and get it over with. But he knew he couldn't.

"Finally, cowpoke. Took you long enough." Micah looked around. "Where's Dutch?"

"Back in camp."

"You were both supposed to come here." He sounded annoyed. Then he seemed to gather himself. "Fine, whatever, the two of us can manage, I guess.

He got up and mounted his horse. 

"Let's go. That stage ain't gonna rob itself."

"We're not doing that."

Micah looked at him with wide eyes. It almost looked funny.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I mean," Arthur gripped the reigns a bit harder and forced himself to speak calmly. "That Dutch wants us back at camp right now."

"You're lying, you fucking coward. Dutch wants us to make money and that's what we're gonna do. I mean, I am the only one working here, so the least you can do is lend a hand."

"I'm not lying. Dutch wants us back. Now."

Micah stared at him and Arthur could almost see the gears grinding in his head, trying to find an angle. God, he wanted to kill him so bad.

Then a smile started to spread across Micah's face and damn, if that wasn't the most creepy thing he'd ever seen.

"Alright, cowpoke. If you say so. Let's go and see what Dutch wants. He knows best after all."

Arthur was suspicious of this sudden change in attitude, but he was tired of the entire conversation. He just turned his horse around. 

"This way, Morgan. There's a Murfree camp ahead in the other direction."

Arthur frowned. That didn't sound right, but he wasn't going to argue. He was going to keep his eyes open, though.

They'd been riding for only a few minutes when Arthur got that feeling that they were being watched. He didn't waste any time questioning it. By now he knew that if it felt like he was in danger, then he needed to pay attention. He grabbed his gun and stopped his horse.

And sure enough, only seconds later shots rang out. 

\-------------


	11. Chapter 11

There were shots coming from everywhere and Arthur had a hard time making out the shooters. Damn these woods. He still managed to take some of them out rather quickly. He dismounted and shooed his horse away. He took cover and concentrated on the others. Where the hell was Micah? He didn't have time to look.

Arthur took a deep breath and let his instincts take over. He was glad that he'd fed so very recently. Even though there were a lot of them and they were very well hidden, he managed to get them one by one. 

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in his side. He looked down, a bullet had grazed him. It wasn't too deep, but there was still a lot of blood seeping through his shirt. Shit. He grit his teeth and moved along the tree line. Finally he could make out what must be the last of them. He fired twice and the two men hit the ground. Perfect head shots. He remained in cover for a while longer, observing the road and the nearby woods, but he couldn't make out anyone else.

Arthur walked over to the nearest corpse and turned it over. A Pinkerton. 

"Hey cowpoke, you ok?"

Arthur turned around and saw Micah getting off his horse. 

"Fine. Where the hell were you?"

"What do you mean? I was fighting for my life, same as you." 

"I'm sure you were," Arthur muttered. 

"You got hit?" Micah looked at his side where blood had turned Arthur's shirt bright red. 

"It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"Yeah well, don't get your hopes up. I'm fine."

Micah looked at him and there was something in his eyes that made Arthur sick to his stomach.

"We should get going." Arthur whistled and waited for his horse. He didn't like this at all. He knew that there were Pinkertons out looking for them, but this had been a big group and they must have been waiting here. Otherwise they would have heard their horses. He winced when he holstered his gun, the wound in his side was slowly starting to heal, but it still hurt and it would take a while. 

"You're probably right." Micah went to his horse. He kept talking, but Arthur wasn't listening. His gaze got caught on one of the dead Pinkertons. He walked over to the corpse and knelt down. There was a letter protruding from the jacket pocket and Arthur pulled it out. 

"What you got there?" Arthur heard steps behind him and quickly put the letter in his pocket.

"Nothing." He turned around and saw Micah charging at him. Arthur took a step to the side and slapped Micah's hand away. But his foot got caught and he stumbled over the dead Pinkerton. He managed to catch himself, but the distraction was enough for Micah to stab him in the neck. Arthur went backwards, pulling away.

His first thought was that it must have been a knife, so he was surprised when he touched his neck and there was only a small drop of blood on his hand. Can't even do that right, he thought. Then he saw Micah holding a syringe and eyeing him expectantly.

"What the hell," Arthur mumbled, he started feeling dizzy. The feeling got stronger very quickly and before he knew it he found himself on his knees.

He looked up at Micah.

"What are you doing?" It was so hard to get the words out.

"Plan B," Micah said. "I honestly thought there were enough Pinkertons here to take you out, but well. I noticed you've been, I don't know, different lately, so I thought it'd be best to be prepared." He tilted his head, his gaze calculating. "Wasn't sure this was gonna work, but I guess I got lucky."

The world was getting darker, Arthur's ears were ringing and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He felt himself falling to the side, the gravel of the road beneath him. He heard Micah approaching and felt his hands on him. He tried to fight him off, but it was no use. He was aware of Micah laughing and then there was nothing.

\-------------

Arthur opened his eyes and sat up. Next to him was a half burnt down campfire. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think. Where was he? 

"Here, have some of this."

Arthur opened his eyes and turned his head around. That couldn't be. But it was. Hosea was looking at him, holding a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter, Arthur? You feeling ok?" Hosea looked worried.

Arthur's mind was racing. Everything was foggy and he didn't know how he got here, but he knew that Hosea shouldn't be here. Because he was dead. Damn, that thought still hurt. 

"Hey, you ok?" Hosea was waving one hand in front of Arthur's face. "Can you see me?" He smiled, but the worry was there, stronger than before. It broke Arthur's heart.

"I'm fine. Just- Just tired, I guess." He grabbed the mug and took a sip of coffee and almost spit it out. It tasted like nothing at all. And it felt wrong. 

"Well, you better wake up. We need to be sharp to get that Grizzly."

The Grizzly. Arthur remembered that day and despite the wrongness of the situation he had to smile. That had been a wonderful time they'd spent together. He'd loved doing things like that. Just the two of them. The realization of what he'd lost hit him all over again. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, sure." He took another sip of the horrible coffee.

When he looked back up Hosea was gone. And the campfire was gone. Arthur found himself sitting on a bed in the hotel in Valentine. His clothes were muddy and everything hurt. 

"Damn, look at you. You're a real mess." Dutch bent down and touched Arthur's chin, tilting his head up a little. He got some water and a towel and sat down next to Arthur. He started to clean his face. When he cleaned the small cut on Arthur's forehead he smiled. "Let's hope this doesn't leave a scar."

"Wouldn't do much harm." The words were out of Arthur's mouth before he even knew it. He remembered that day. And he remembered that conversation. 

"Oh, come on. Don't start with that 'I'm ugly' bullshit." Dutch pushed Arthur's hair back with one hand and continued cleaning the cut. He's sounded annoyed, but he was also smiling.

Arthur just shrugged and tried to sit up straighter. Then he flinched. That hurt. He looked down and saw blood seeping through his shirt on his side. This was wrong. That hadn't happened. He'd been sore and covered in bruises and he'd had some cuts from that fight, but nothing like this.

When he looked back up Dutch was gone.

Everything was black for a second. Then he found himself on his back and his shoulder was on fire. He tried to sit up, but couldn't. He realized that he was on his own cot back at Clemens Point. And there were voices near by.

"How is he?" That was Dutch. He sounded worried. Not so much that he would have come looking for me, Arthur thought bitterly. Wait, wait, he told himself. This was old. This was done. He couldn't do this again. He needed to figure out what was going on.

"His shoulder is in bad shape. We can only hope that it'll heal and that the infection won't get worse." That was Hosea again. 

"Most of all he needs rest." That was Miss Grimshaw. 

Why aren't I healing? 

Arthur frowned. What was that supposed to mean? He would be healing, but those things took time. 

Not anymore.

He tried to think. What were these thoughts? 

I need to get out of here.

I need to warn the others.

Warn them about what?

I need to get up. 

He tried to move, but the pain in his shoulder stopped him. 

He tried again, but the pain in his side stopped him. He frowned. There was no pain in his shoulder anymore.

He tried again, but something held him in place.

He tried again and again.

"Woah, there, cowpoke. Stop it. You're gonna hurt yourself. Well, you're gonna hurt yourself more."

Arthur opened his eyes when Micah's voice penetrated his panicked thoughts. He looked around. He was on a metal cot in some house, from the looks of it. And he couldn't move. His hands were handcuffed to the sides of the cot and there was one chain tied tightly across his legs and one across his chest. Even with his newfound strength there was no way he could break this amount of metal.

"Well, there you are. I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't wake up." Micah was sitting on a chair next to the cot. He bent forward and put his hand on Arthur's forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever. Not that it would matter much. For long, I mean."

Arthur tried to move away from Micah's touch. He wasn't successful. All he managed was turning his head to the side. 

"My my, I'm almost hurt." Micah laughed and leaned back again. He regarded Arthur for a long time and he had a smug look on his face.

"What is this?" Arthur moved his arms and tried again to get free.

"This is for my peace of mind." Micah crossed his arms. "You see, something's been strange with you lately. And I don't like strange. I like to know what I'm up against and until a few days ago I did. A deluded gang leader eating out of my hand." He looked at Arthur, no doubt expecting a reaction. Arthur forced himself to remain calm. After a moment Micah continued. "And his right hand man, who was at death's door. And I'm not gonna lie, I liked those odds."

Arthur's heart was pounding. Of course, Micah had noticed he'd been sick. He was a bastard, but he wasn't stupid. And yet Dutch had no idea, he thought. Once again he tried to shove that thought down. It wouldn't do any good thinking about Dutch's shortcomings at a time like this. He needed to stay alert. 

"But ever since that night in Van Horn you and Dutch have been inseparable. And I'd honestly thought he'd been done with you. I mean, he basically said as much." Micah paused, letting his words sit for a while. "Anyway, you were hurt back then and two minutes later you were fine. I thought it was strange, but what could I do? Nothing. Nothing instead of paying more attention. And being more careful. And getting you alone." 

Micah got up and walked towards Arthur. He grabbed Arthur's shirt and pulled it up. Underneath was the almost completely closed wound. It still hurt, but it looked like it had been healing for a few weeks already. It was clean and Arthur frowned, but then he realized. Micah must have taken a look while he'd been unconscious. Arthur felt sick, the mere thought of that creep touching him disgusted him. 

"Isn't that interesting?" Micah looked amused when he saw Arthur's expression. "Oh, come on, don't act shy. I'm sure you don't mind Dutch doing this." 

"What the hell do you want?"

Micah took a step back again. 

"I want to finish what I started. I have to admit, you taking out the Pinkertons did mess up my initial plan." He shrugged. "But I can deal with that. There's still enough time to get some new agents and lead them right into Beaver Hollow. With you out of the picture the rest of that pathetic bunch really shouldn't be a problem."

"You're a goddamn rat and a traitor!"

"I'm a survivor! And that's what I'll do: survive." There was an ugly grin forming on Micah's face. "But first." He took out a knife. "I wanna know what I'm actually dealing with here."

\------------


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's torture and non-consensual touching in this chapter.

Arthur was laughing. He was in a good mood. And drunk. He was sitting in a small town he and Dutch had visited after doing some business. The business being scamming a rancher out of quite a bit of money. 

"Hosea won't believe his eyes." Dutch smiled and downed another shot of whiskey. "This went beautifully."

Arthur nodded and drank some more. He blinked. Better be careful, he told himself. Wouldn't want the celebration to stop just because he got shitfaced. Moments like this were too precious and too rare to waste. It wasn't often that he and Dutch spend time together like this, just the two of them. 

"I'll get us another bottle." Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Dutch had already gotten up and left. Arthur shrugged and allowed himself to feel good. That was a rare thing, too, he'd found lately. To just feel good. Not to worry about things. Things like money. Or the law. Or Dutch's affection. He blinked again. God, he was really drunk when he was thinking about that. 

He looked down at the glass he was holding. There was still a bit of whiskey in it and he slowly turned the glass until the whiskey almost ran out, then he stopped. He kept doing that for some time. It wasn't as if Dutch didn't care anymore. At least he didn't so. It was just that there was this woman. Annabelle. And she was nice and all and he shouldn't even be thinking about this. It's not like he and Dutch could ever really be a couple or something. 

And yet it hurt. It hurt to see Dutch's eyes light up when he was talking about somebody else. And Arthur didn't like that one bit. He was used to things hurting. Damn, life itself just hurt, that's what life was. He'd known that for as long he could remember. But after meeting Dutch and Hosea he thought that maybe there was more to it. And after he and Dutch had gotten closer, he'd sometimes even believed there could be such a thing as happiness. Well, that's my bad for thinking that, he thought. It's not like Dutch had ever made any promises. At least not in that regard. He'd made lots of promises about a better way of living. And there were times when Arthur doubted those and he hated himself for it.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" Arthur looked up to see Dutch eyeing the glass that was tipped so far over that some whiskey was about to drop out of it.

"Nothing," Arthur said and raised the glass. He emptied it and put it back down. He gestured towards the new bottle Dutch had brought.

Dutch sat down and opened the bottle, but he was hesitant. Gone was the elation of before. 

"You sure?" he asked as he was about to pour. 

"Sure I'm sure. You got another bottle. What else are we gonna do?" Arthur forced himself to smile. Snap out of this, he told himself. Dutch didn't like it when Arthur got in a dark mood, so it was best to avoid it in his company. Dutch still hesitated for a moment, but then he either bought Arthur's smile or decided to accept the lie.

"Alright then."

They kept drinking and talking and after a while Arthur managed to shove those unpleasant thoughts away. He was getting real good at that. He was here with Dutch now and he was going to enjoy it. 

"I think, that's enough," Dutch said and pulled Arthur's glass away. Normally Arthur would make a grab for it and protest, but not this time. He felt warm and happy and content and he didn't mind not passing out for once. Dutch looked at him, expecting resistance. When that didn't happen he smiled. 

"Let's go upstairs. I got us a room."

They made their way upstairs. Once they were inside the room Dutch closed the door and shoved Arthur against it. 

"Ow," Arthur blinked when his head his the door.

"Sorry." Dutch cradled Arthur's head and smoothed over his hair. Then he leaned forward and kissed him. 

Arthur closed his eyes and leaned back while grabbing Dutch's jacket and pulling him closer. 

When they broke apart Dutch whispered. "You'll always have me, you know."

Arthur nodded. "I know," he said. No, I don't, he thought.

\-------------

For some reason Arthur had to think about that moment in that small town hotel all those years ago. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he felt lost then and he certaintly felt lost now. Tied to a bed, unable to move and Micah next to him with a knife in his hand and a wild look on his face. He'd really wanted to believe Dutch then and he wished he could believe it now. That Dutch would be there, that he wasn't alone in this.

"You know, cowpoke," Micah started cleaning his nails with the tip of his knife, making sure Arthur could see. "When I first met you I actually liked you. I'd thought to myself, well, that seems to be a man who gets stuff done." He paused and looked at Arthur. "Man, was I wrong. Without me, the gang wouldn't even be around anymore."

"Well, many of us aren't. And that's because of you." Arthur expected to see anger, but the only thing showing on Micah's face was mild amusement. 

"Just keep telling yourself that. The truth is, you all needed me." He paused again. "Dutch needed me."

"We were getting along just fine for 20 years without you." There was more venom and anger behind his words than Arthur had intented. Shit, he thought. You're playing right into his hand. Don't let him get to you.

"My my, I seem to have hit a nerve. Don't think I didn't notice that Dutch only took an interest in you again when you-" Micah waved his hand in Arthur's direction. "Changed."

Dutch just stopped listening to your bullshit for a bit and that did wonders, Arthur thought, but he kept silent.

Micah got closer and ran his finger over the fresh wound. Arthur flinched and fought against the chains. The way Micah was touching made him sick to his stomach. And it also worried him. In the short time he'd been tied up Micah had touched him several times now and Arthur didn't like it one bit. He especially didn't like the look on Micah's face when he did it. Kind of lost in thought, but excited at the same time. 

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

"You're not in any position to make demands." Micah tugged at Arthur's shirt and exposed more of his torso. He focused on the stab wound Arthur'd gotten in Van Horn. That scar looked old and faded. Micah looked at it for a long time. 

Suddenly he put his hand on Arthur's chest, holding him in place. Then he ran the knife slowly across Arthur's stomach, making a shallow cut.

Arthur grunted. It stung. But the feeling of helplessness was the thing that was truly getting to him. He tried to struggle, but the chains held him in place.

"Don't be such a baby." Micah pressed down harder on his chest. He looked down at the cut expectantly. And sure enough, after a few minutes the cut began to close. "Well, I'll be damned, " Micah muttered. 

Arthur had felt hunger ever since he'd woken up, but hadn't payed it much mind. Now he felt a sudden spike in that hunger that he couldn't ignore. And he felt a new surge in panic. If he couldn't drink this would get worse and worse and maybe he would actually die. 

Micah let go of him and sat down again. He looked at the knife, slowly cleaning off the blood.

"How does it work?" 

Arthur was confused for a moment. He hadn't expected the question. He looked at Micah and was even more confused. There seemed to be genuine interest in his gaze. Arthur'd expected Micah to call him a fucking freak and cut him up into pieces. 

"Well?"

Keeping Micah talking probably wasn't a bad idea. It could buy him some time. Time for what, Arthur thought bitterly. For Dutch to get here and save him, yeah right. But it was still better than trying nothing.

"I don't know," Arthur finally said.

"Don't fucking lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Arthur paused, trying to figure out the right approach here. Be honest enough for him to believe you, but don't give him enough information to use against you. Not an easy task.

"I'm not lying. I know that I heal faster. And I know that wounds that would normaly be lethal heal perfectly on their own."

"Surely not all on their own. Something must be causing this. The same thing that cured you of that cough. "

This was tricky. He really shouldn't say anything about the blood drinking.

"I met a strange man in Saint Denis. He must have done something to me."

"What do you mean, must have?"

"I can't remember." 

Micah got up and grabbed Arthur's neck. He bent down and looked at him.

"I'm getting tired of your games, Morgan." He squeezed Arthur's throat tightly and then relaxed his hand again. The threat being clear.

"I'm not playing games, I honestly don't remember. He approached me and the next thing I know is sitting on my horse in the bayou."

Micah narrowed his eyes. 

"Was that right before we did that robbery with Dutch?"

"Yes."

Arthur felt relieved for a moment when Micah took his hand off his neck, but that relief didn't last long. Micah turned Arthur's head to the side and looked at the two round scars on his neck. Shit, Arthur thought. Dutch had been cleaning the blood off his neck and shortly after that Micah had come in. He must have noticed something. 

"You're not telling me everything," Micah mumbled. He looked calm and calculating. "But that doesn't matter. I think I can figure this out on my own." 

At last he let go of Arthur's neck. He sat back down on the chair, looking at Arthur. 

"That night in Van Horn you also had a lot of blood on your mouth. At first I thought someone had cut out your tongue. Or maybe that you bit it real bad. But now I think that wasn't your blood at all."

Shit, shit, shit, Arthur thought.

"Why do you even wanna know?" He cleared his throat, it hurt from the pressure. He lifted his head and looked at his stomach. The cut was almost gone. And the hunger was even stronger. "I expected you to just kill me and be done with it. Why all these questions?"

Micah kept looking at him, his face unreadable. At last he lowered his eyes and concentrated on his knife again.

"You know, I may have called you dumb more than once, but truth is, I think you're quite smart. You try to hide it, though. I think you count on people underestimating you. But right now I don't know if you're just acting dumb or if you really have no idea." 

He put the knife away and got up again. He gave Arthur a long look.

"You had a terminal disease and now you're fine. You get injured and the wounds heal in a matter of hours, sometimes even minutes." His eyes were on the cut on Arthur's stomach. "You get ambushed by a large group of Pinkertons and manage to kill them all on your own." 

Micah put his hands on his hips and grinned.

"It's very simple. I wanna be like you."

\-----------


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Torture and threats of maiming. A brief mention of considering self destructive actions.

"What?" Arthur couldn't really comprehend what was going on. He'd heard it alright, but he didn't want to believe it.

"I want to be like you," Micah repeated. Then he shrugged. "Well, I wanna be able to heal and kill as swiftly as you do. I don't wanna be a mopy, brooding, sad loser who doesn't appreciate what he can do. Just to be clear."

Shit, Arthur thought. This was taking an even worse turn. Micah being a bloodthirsty vampire was one of the worst things he could imagine. But in a way he wouldn't really have to worry about it because he had no idea how he himself had become one, so there was no way he could recreate that process, even if he wanted to.

"You don't want this," Arthur finally said. 

Micah raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"Oh really? And why is that?"

Arthur felt his best bet was once again to stall and hope someone was coming for him. He didn't really believe he could convince Micah with reason, but he could try. 

"It's not as great as you think."

The grin vanished and Micah moved closer. He was towering over Arthur, clear hatred in his eyes.

"I'm sure you don't think it's great. You've never appreciated what you had. One of the best shots and killers and all of the sudden you start worrying about doing the right thing, not wanting to take risks anymore. You've become pathetic. Why do you think Dutch stopped trusting you?"

That hit Arthur like a punch in the gut. If he was honest with himself he was blaming himself for having pushed Dutch away with his doubt. Even though he was doubting their way of life and its sustainability and not Dutch himself. He couldn't really blame Dutch for perceiving it like that, though. He slowly shook his head.

"No, you see. You can still get hurt. And the healing doesn't just happen." He was painfully reminded of that fact by the ever increasing hunger. The cut on his stomach was almost completely shut now and the wound in his side had healed more as well. 

"Because you need to drink blood," Micah said. He didn't ask, he stated it as a fact. 

Arthur nodded. There was no use in trying to keep that from him anymore.

"I don't really see the problem with that, you know. With me not being a bleeding heart like you, always worrying about hurting folks. So, thanks for your concern, but I'll manage."

Arthur groaned inwardly. Of course, there was no way to convince Micah with logic. Being a better killer, there was nothing he wouldn't do for that. He thought back to the incident in Strawberry. How much worse would that have gone with Micah being a vampire. Maybe he wouldn't even had ended up in jail had he been one, but he sure as hell would have left a path of destruction all over the country. 

"So, if you don't mind," Micah pulled Arthur out of this thoughts. "I'd like to get started."

"With what?"

Arthur flinched when Micah punched him in his face.

"Don't play dumb, asshole. Tell me what I have to do. Or do what you have to do or whatever, to make me like you."

"I can't."

Micah sighed.

"Believe me, you don't want to make me angry. I mean, yeah, you heal. But I'm not sure if really everything I can do to you will heal." He let his eyes roam over Arthur's body. Then he grabbed Arthur's hand and placed his knife on Arthur's trigger finger. "For instance, I'm not at all sure that a cut off finger will grow back."

Arthur felt sick to his stomach. He was pretty sure it wouldn't. After all, the wounds that healed all still left scars. It wasn't as if the injury got completey erased. But the thing was, he really didn't know how to make someone into a vampire. He didn't even remember how he himself had become one. 

Simply biting a person didn't do the trick. Otherwise Dutch would be one as well. And Jim, well, he actually didn't know what had happened to Jim. He felt a pang of guilt every time he thought about it. 

"I told you I don't know. I'm not lying about that. I don't remember what happened that made me into this-"

Micah pressed the knife down and blood was starting to flow.

Arthur tried to pull his hand away.

"Stop it, goddamnit! I don't know!"

Micah looked at him for a long time. Then he stopped cutting, but he didn't take the knife away.

"You're just worried that once I'm as great a killer as you are Dutch won't look at you anymore."

"Bullshit!" But part of Arthur wondered if this had some truth to it. Dutch did value people for what they could do for him, but. He struggled to continue his thought. What, he thought. I'm the exception? He used to believe that. All those years ago. Then he knew better. And then this whole mess happened and he'd almost believed it again. 

"Keep telling yourself that. I know what I know. And now-"

They were interrupted by the sound of horses and voices outside. For a second Arthur felt relieved. And hope. They found him! But there was no alarm on Micah's face. He started to grin.

"Don't get your hopes up. That's for me. I've been expecting some company. Too bad we can't finish this now, but we'll have all the time in the world later." 

He put his knife away and gathered his things. He rifled though a bag and pulled out a syringe. 

"No point in taking risks. It's best if you take a little nap as long as I'm out. Won't be long, though. Just gonna lead these nice Pinkertons right into Beaver Hollow. So, you see there's no point in worrying about Dutch's ... affections for you, because it will be just you and me soon enough."

"You wouldn't."

"Why not? I admit when I joined you I needed a gang. Can't rob successfully all on your own. You need manpower. You need other people, no matter how pathetic those may be." Micah stopped and thought for a while. "I admit, I will miss Dutch. If there was a way to just keep him around... Well, no use in dwelling on that. The point is once I have your powers, which are clearly wasted on you anyway, I won't have to bother with other people anymore."

He jabbed the syringe in Arthur's neck. When he saw Arthur's eyes begin to flutter he turned around and left.

\-------------

Arthur was only half aware of Micah leaving. He felt himself getting tired, but the effect of whatever it was Micah had injected him with wasn't as strong or fast working as it had been before. Maybe because he wasn't badly hurt now. Maybe his body had developed an immunity. Who knew.

He did feel disoriented, though. And his thoughts were racing.

What could he do when Micah returned. Grimmly Arthur thought that he should just tell Micah to bend down so he could bite his neck. Telling him that was the way to change someone. And then he should just kill him. 

And then what, the thought. I can't break out of this on my own. I'd lie here until I finally starve. Probably, who knows. 

But at least that bastard wouldn't be around anymore. Think of it as doing the world a favor. 

He won't be stupid enough to believe me. This was the main reason. As much as it pained him to admit it, Micah was smart and wouldn't fall for that.

Thinking was exhausting. Arthur felt it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open. But he needed to find a way out of this. What if Micah really succeeded and managed to get everyone in the gang killed? 

The last time he'd felt this hopeless and out of his depth had been in Guarma. He remembered being incredibly relieved after having found the others again and then escaping. But then he'd gotten some sleep and the entire misery of their situation had caught up with him. The failed bank job. Lenny being dead. And Hosea. Oh god, Hosea. And there was no way of knowing if the others were ok. 

After he'd woken up shortly after their arrival Arthur had explored the area around their camp. He didn't know what he was looking for, maybe he just wanted to be alone for a while. He'd found Dutch sitting against a tree, his head on his knees. It hadn't seemed as if he'd noticed Arthur's approach.

Arthur was debating whether or not to make a sound. This seemed private. Obviously Dutch had wanted to be alone and he should respect that. But before he could come to a decision a bird called and Dutch looked up, right at Arthur. There were tears on his face.

Arthur didn't know what to do. This was wrong. He thought about apologizing and leaving and somehing stopped him. He'd expected Dutch to be angry, but he just looked sad. And lost.

"He's dead." Dutch had said, so low that Arthur hardly heard it. 

Arthur slowly took a step forward. And another. Like he was approaching a startled horse. Eventually he sat down beside Dutch. Dutch lowered his head again and his shoulders were shaking. Arthur reached out his hand and rubbed slow circles on Dutch's back. 

He didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Depite the distance that had been there between them during the past weeks, Arthur knew that he was the only one allowed to see Dutch like this. Now, that Hosea, well. Even though lately Dutch had pretty much preferred Micah's company and advice above all else, this was different. It was just a shadow of what they used to have. But it was proof that it was still there. No matter how small. No matter how deep Dutch had felt it necessary to bury it.

They sat like this for a long time.

\-----------

"What the hell did you do?!"

Arthur felt a sharp pain. Something was hitting his face. 

"Wake the fuck up!" Another hit. Arthur opened his eyes only to see stars. 

Micah was standing above him, fuming.

"They were all gone!"

Arthur blinked. His brain still felt sluggish from the drug and part of him was still sitting under that tree in Guarma.

"Where are they?"

It slowly dawned on Arthur that Micah must have found Beaver Hollow empty. Thank God, he thought. On the one hand this was great news. It meant that Dutch had listened to him and had brought the gang to their new hideout. And not a second too soon. But on the other hand it meant that they had abandoned him. They hadn't waited to look for him when he hadn't shown up with Micah like he'd been supposed to. Maybe Dutch had been angry. 

Still, better than all of them getting killed, Arthur thought. A small price to pay.

"Answer me, you fucking bastard!" Micah grabbed Arthur's shoulders and shook him as much as the chains allowed it.

"Looks like you weren't as smart as you thought you were," Arthur finally said. He tried to smile even though he didn't feel like it. Just to piss Micah off. It seemed to work, because Micah punched him in the face once more.

"I swear to god, you will give me what I want now or you will regret every second you have left on this earth." Micah pulled out his knife and made another deeper cut across Arthur's stomach. Then he stabbed Arthur's thigh and punched him the face again.

"How would you like to lose an eye? I'd be amazed if that grew back, but I mean, there's no harm in trying, right?"

Still reeling from the pain of the cut and stab wound Arthur tried to turn his head away. He kept struggling. Then Micah climbed onto the cot. He sat down on Arthur's chest, making it hard for him to breathe and grabbed his chin.

\-----------


	14. Chapter 14

Arthur felt his heart hammering in his chest. He could hardly breathe and the hunger made it almost impossible to concentrate. This is it, he thought. There was no way out of this. Micah was going to kill him. He was going to torture and then kill him. He seemed too angry and unhinged to care anymore about being turned. Not that he could have done it anyway. And if could, he sure as hell wouldn't. The last thing the world needed was a nearly invulnerable killing machine with no conscience whatsoever.

The grip on his chin grew tighter and Micah turned Arthur's face so that he could look him in the eyes.

"Tell me where they are." Micah was no longer screaming, he sounded calm, but Arthur could still see the fury in his face. He didn't answer. It wouldn't matter what he said. 

"Why do you keep protecting them? Protecting Dutch? He left you. I'm sure you figured that out by now." Micah grinned. "He's probably glad to be rid of you."

It stung. Arthur knew that this wasn't true. Probably. But it still stung.

"Yeah, well. I guess, he left you too, then."

Micah narrowed his eyes. He let go of Arthur's chin and put his hand on Arthur's neck instead. 

"Last chance. Tell me what I wanna know."

Arthur pressed his lips together. He asked himself if he could actually choke. He didn't have an answer, he just knew that he really didn't want to find out. Not being able to breathe had been the worst thing about having TB. But it wasn't like he had a choice.

"Fine. Be that way. In a way I'm gonna miss you." Micah started putting pressure on Arthur's neck and he lifted the knife back up as well. 

Arthur couldn't help himself, he started to struggle. His vision turned blurry and dark and his ears were ringing. No, no, no, he thought. 

Images flashed before his eyes, little moments in time. Hosea next to him at a lake, both of them silent and holding fishing rods. Lenny next to him at the bar of a saloon, laughing about something he said. Charles explaining tracking to him in the snow. Sitting next to Sadie and drinking coffee while staring into the camp fire. John smiling when Arthur agreed to teach him how to shoot. Susan, Pearson, Abigail, Karen. And Dutch. Dutch patting him on the back after a successful job. Dutch winking at him during a game of poker where they scammed some guy out of a lot of money. Dutch grinning while helping him up after the Count threw him, shrugging and saying 'I told you so'.

All those moments that were over and done and there weren't going to be any new ones.

Then the door burst open. Suddenly Arthur could breathe again. 

"Get away from him!" 

Arthur blinked. That sounded like Dutch. Could that be true? Micah was still on top of him, but he wasn't pressing down on his neck anymore. Arthur slowly moved his head to the side, trying to see who it was. 

There was Dutch slowly approaching and pointing a gun at Micah. Right behind him was John.

"Dutch." Micah sounded surprised. But he caught himself quickly. He put his hand over Arthur's mouth. "Good thing you're here. This bastard wanted to sell us out. I'd been meaning to let you know all about it, but you weren't at the camp anymore."

Arthur groaned. That slimy asshole. Here's hoping Dutch doesn't buy this shit, he thought. Normally he wouldn't be worried, but with Dutch's recent behaviour, he really wasn't sure about anything anymore.

"How dare you lie to me like that." Dutch's voice was ice cold. Arthur felt a tiny sliver of hope.

"I'm not-"

"Shut up!" Dutch took a step forward. "We saw you lead the Pinkertons to the camp."

Despite his shitty situation Arthur felt relief. Thank god Dutch seemed to have finally wised up about Micah. Just kill him already, he thought. But it didn't look like Dutch was about to do that. What the hell was he still waiting for. Arthur's relief turned into annoyance. And despair. The hunger was getting stronger and stronger. The new wounds demanded more blood and he was starting to smell the other men in the room and it was getting irresistible. 

Arthur found himself fighting against the chains once more.

"Stop it!" Micah raised his knife again.

"I said get away from him!" Dutch was yelling now. He raised his gun and fired. The bullet hit Micah's shoulder and he fell off of Arthur, landing on the floor.

Dutch walked closer, his gun still trained on Micah.

"Are you ok, Arthur?" Dutch looked at him briefly, then he focused back on Micah.

"Yeah, sure," Arthur managed to say, but it didn't sound convincing, not even to his own ears.

"John, get those chains off of him."

"Dutch,no. Stop." Arthur started to panic. He was so hungry now and he was sure that he wouldn't be able to control himself if John got too close.

"It's ok, Arthur. Trust me."

"Why don't you shoot that bastard?" John sounded annoyed.

"I know what I'm doing." Dutch took a deep breath. "You both need to listen to me. I know I messed up, but I have a plan here. Please just trust me." 

"But Dutch-" 

"It's ok, Arthur. I just need you to keep it together for a little bit longer. I know you can do that. John, get him out of those chains. Once he's free you get away from him as fast as you can."

John looked at Dutch as if he'd grown a second head. 

"What the hell are you saying? He's hurt. He needs help."

"And we'll help him. Please trust me, son."

John looked back at Arthur. There was doubt in his eyes, but he started moving.

Arthur closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, in and out. In and out. He felt John working on the chains first, quickly picking the locks. Then he moved on to the handcuffs. God, he smelled so good. Concentrate! In and out. In and out. Finally Arthur felt the second pair of handcuffs drop off his wirst and he heard John moving away from the cot. 

He still had his eyes closed and concentrated on staying calm.

"Can you get up?" Dutch sounded worried.

"Yeah, I just-" Arthur licked his lips. "I just need a moment."

"Dutch, you have to believe me. Arthur's the one who betrayed you. Just like you suspected all along." 

Arthur felt a sudden flash of hot rage and he wanted nothing more than to rip Micah's throat out. And maybe Dutch's as well. How dare he? But it might just be another one of Micah's lies, he told himself. Another attempt at getting out of this. It didn't matter, though. What was stopping him, as always, was Dutch. For some reason Dutch still wanted that asshole alive and as much as it pained him to admit it, he would always do what Dutch wanted. Damn the consequences. 

He slowly sat up and opened his eyes.

"Shut up, you bastard!" John spit on the ground. 

"John." Dutch's tone silenced anything more John might have wanted to say.

"You're a goddamn traitor and the worst thing to happen to this gang." Dutch sounded defeated and exhausted. "And it's my fault for listening to you. For falling for your bullshit. I let you destroy so much, but-" Dutch paused, his voice breaking for a moment. He continued. "But that's over now. I can't change what happened, but I can try to do better."

Dutch moved forward. He grabbed Micah by his collar and pulled him up. Then he looked at Arthur.

"Drink."

Arthur wasn't sure he heard him correctly. Suddenly he felt like he was under water. 

"What?" He asked.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John took a step forward. 

"You can't be serious." Micah started to struggle.

Dutch holstered his gun and pulled out a knife instead. He made a shallow cut on Micah's neck. He looked at Arthur again.

"Drink."

God, the smell of the blood was just too much. It had been taking all his will power before, but now he couldn't control himself anymore.

He got up from the cot and Dutch shoved Micah into his arms. Arthur grabbed him and sank his teeth into his neck. He immediately felt better, felt the blood filling him, felt his wounds starting to heal. He felt Micah's hands grabbing his shoulder, trying to push him away. It was no use. He was only vaguely aware of Dutch and John, hearing parts of their conversation.

"What the hell?"

"It's ok, John."

"No, it's not. What is he- Damnit, we can't-"

"Put down the gun! Listen to me, it's fine."

"How can that be fine? What the hell is he?"

"He's Arthur. That's all you ned to know. He's hurt and he needs this."

"But-"

"I'll explain later."

Micah stopped moving. He turned limp. Arthur let go of him. He felt so much better. He could think clearly again. He turned around and saw Dutch and John staring at him.

Dutch had the same look on his face he had back at the cabin with the Lemoyne Raiders. And Arthur didn't know how he felt about that. Despite the new strength he felt now, he also felt weak. Like a puppet. It hadn't really been his decision to kill Micah. Oh, he had wanted it for so long and he wasn't sorry that he was finally dead, but still. Dutch had been the one to seal Micah's fate. And he'd used Arthur to do it.

And John. John looked terrified. And disgusted. And it broke Arthur's heart. He didn't want to talk about this now. He couldn't take that look one more second. 

"How did you find me?" Arthur looked at Dutch.

"When you didn't return with Micah I got suspiscious." Dutch ran his hand through his hair. He was visibly uncomfortable talking abou this. "I didn't wanna leave without you, but I figured." He shrugged. "Well, the others packed up camp and moved, but John, Charles and I stayed behind. Charles had searched the eara around the house you were supposed to meet Micah, but it had been raining the day after and it was difficult finding a trace. So, we observed Beaver Hollow, thinking maybe you or Micah would show up there."

"And then you saw Micah leading the Pinkertons there."

Dutch lowered his eyes. He nodded.

"They went their seperate ways and we followed Micah here. Charles is patrolling the area, keeping watch."

"Good, because the Pinkertons know about this place."

There was more Arthur wanted to say, but the door opened and Charles looked inside. 

"There's someone coming. They're still a few miles away, but we should leave now." He paused and looked at Arthur. His expression was unreadable. Arthur was sure he looked like hell with blood all over his face and clothes. After a moment though Charles smiled briefly. "Good to have you back," he said. Then he went back outside.

"What about Micah?" Arthur looked at the corpse. It looked like a wild animal had torn his throat out.

"Don't worry about it. Get your things." Dutch walked to the corpse and slashed the throat a couple of times with his knife until there were no bitemarks visible anymore.

They went outside. Arthur saw his horse tied to a fence. He was relieved. He'd been sure he'd seen the last of him. He looked around and saw where they were. The Van Horn mansion, he'd robbed a few small time crooks here a while ago.

"We should split up." Dutch mounted the Count. "John, Charles, you go back to Hanging Dog Ranch, but not directly. Make some tracks that lead nowhere. We can't be careful enough. We'll do the same and meet you at the Ranch in a few days. And John-" Dutch looked at John imploringly. "We'll explain everything. I promise."

John and Charles mounted their horses. John looked like he was about to protest, but in the end he didn't. He did look at Arthur, though. 

"I'm glad you're ok."

Before Arthur could answer he turned his horse around. Charles followed him.

"Arthur, you're with me."

Arthur mounted his horse.

"Where are we going?"

"North, for now. We need to lay low for a while."

"Ok." Arthur wasn't really convinced. Sure, splitting up and leaving false tracks made sense, but he suspected there was another reason Dutch had decided to do this.

They started making their way north.

\-----------


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's talk about non-consensual touching/sexual assault in this chapter, nothing graphic.

They rode north for hours, avoiding towns and bigger roads. Arthur was following Dutch, still thinking about what had just happened. He didn't quite know what to make of it. He was glad that Micah was dead. But it hadn't been his choice, not really. And he couldn't figure out why Dutch had finally given in. All those times before when he had shot down any kind of argument about Micah. Arthur shook his head. This was exhausting. And his head felt strange. He was wondering if that was still a lingering side effect from the drugs. Maybe Micah's blood just hadn't been enough to fix everything right away. 

The sun was starting to set and Artur realized just how tired he was. They were northwest of Annesburg and he remembered having seen an empty cabin near here.

"Hey, this way," he said, waiting for Dutch to follow him. 

"Where are we going? I thought we could make a camp a bit further north."

"There's a cabin we can use." Arthur didn't elaborate and Dutch didn't ask. He knew that Arthur came across many things during his times away from camp. 

"Ok, lead the way."

It was dark when they arrived at the cabin. They dismounted and hitched their horses.

Arthur hesitated for a moment, then he grabbed some clean clothes from the saddle bags. He was covered in blood and his pants had a hole where Micah had stabbed his thigh. 

Arthur winced when he walked towards the cabin. His wounds were mostly healed but the stab wound on his leg still hurt. The gun shot wound in his side was also still tender. 

The cabin was just as he'd remembered, some cabinets, a table and most importantly a bed. Quite narrow but it would do.

They walked inside. Arthur was about to say something when Dutch suddenly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Then he was pushed against a wall and Dutch was kissing him. Arthur was stunned. His hands were hovering over Dutch's sides. They were empty now, his clean clothes on the ground. 

His heart was racing. He was close to panicking, but he also felt frozen. They'd done this before. Many times. Often after a brush with death. But this felt wrong and he didn't know what to do. He felt Dutch pushing his leg between Arthur's thighs and he felt a sharp pain from the stab wound. Without thinking he shoved Dutch away.

"Stop it, damnit!" It was like coming up from having been under water. Suddenly he could think again. He wiped his mouth and saw his hand come back bloody. He looked at Dutch and saw that he had some blood on his mouth as well. Arthur felt sick. That was still Micah's blood. What the hell.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Is that why you made me kill Micah? Because it turns you on?" He spat on the ground and wiped at his mouth again. It was no use really. He was basically still covered in blood, Micah's and his own. Most of it was dried and wouldn't come off.

Dutch raised his hands. Like he always did when he wanted to appear calm and collected and in charge. Arthur was sick or it. He raised his hand and pointed his finger at Dutch.

"And don't bullshit me!"

Dutch seemed to freeze. Then he slowly lowered his hands. He scratched the back of his neck and Arthur couldn't believe he finally saw him speechless. He almost didn't hear it when Dutch finally talked.

"What was that?"

Dutch looked up.

"I thought you were dead." He sounded strange. So small and unsure. 

Arthur waited.

"I thought," Dutch continued. "I thought Micah had killed you. And it would have been my fault."

He looked at him as if he was waiting for Arthur to correct him. To tell him that it was okay, that it wouldn't have been his fault. And Arthur really wanted to do that. And he hated himself for it. This was the problem. Dutch was always doing what he thought was right, never listening to anyone else. And if things went south he wanted to be absolved. He wanted to be told that he did everything right. That's how they ended up in fucking Beaver Hollow. Without Hosea. Without Lenny. Without so many others.

"Yeah, it would have been." Arthur couldn't believe he just said that. And judging from the look of his face Dutch couldn't believe it, either. The bastard had the audacity to look hurt. 

"I've been telling you that you can't trust Micah for months. And I was right."

"I know."

"If you had listened to me earlier, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"I know."

Something in Arthur snapped. He made two quick steps and grabbed Dutch's vest. He pushed him against the wall, their places now reversed. 

"Then why didn't you listen?" He was yelling now. He couldn't stop himself. Part of him wanted to hurt Dutch, hurt him real bad. Another part wanted to kiss him again. None of it would do any good. "Why did you send me to get him when we could have just all gone to Hanging Dog Ranch together? Why risk it all for that goddamn traitor? After I asked you not to fucking trust him?"

Dutch was quiet for a moment. The only sound in the room was their breathing.

"Because then it would have all been for nothing." Dutch sounded defeated. Arthur slowly let go of his vest and took a step back.

"What do you mean?"

Dutch walked over to the bed and sat down. He looked down at his hands. 

"If had listened to you back at Hanging Dog Ranch," he hesitated. "If I had done that, then I should have listened earlier."

"What are you talking about?" 

"I mean, if I had listened to you then, that would have meant that you'd been right before."

Arthur nodded, not sure where Dutch was going with this.

"If I had listened to you. And Hosea. Earlier. He would still be alive. They all would be." Dutch looked up at him. "I just thought if I could prove to you that I was right about Micah, then it wouldn't have been for nothing."

"Their deaths wouldn't be your fault, you mean." Arthur was annoyed. "You kept making bad decisions, knowing they were bad, because you couldn't admit you were wrong. Don't even try to dress this up as anything else but that." He expected Dutch to get angry. But he didn't. He just shrugged slightly.

"You're right."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. All this bullshit because of Dutch's stubborness and pride. He opened his eyes again and looked at him. Dutch was sitting on the bed, his head now burried in his hands. He seemed very tired. And old. It's no use, Arthur thought. He knows what he did. At least he admits it now. But he couldn't be in the same room with him right now. He bent down and gathered up his clothes.

"I need to get cleaned up," he said and walked to the door.

"You're coming back, right?"

Arthur stopped. He turned around. Part of him wanted to watch Dutch squirm. Part of him thought, he shouldn't come back. And part of him knew that he always would, no matter what.

"Of course," he said.

\----------

He got on his horse, there was a river not far from the cabin and he needed some time alone to think. 

The water was cold, but he didn't mind. It was good to wash away all that blood. He inspected the wounds. They looked almost healed. The cuts on his stomach were mere scars now. His side and thigh would need more time, though. While washing his face he felt a small new scar underneath his eye. Micah must have nicked him. Great, the thought bitterly. I'm just getting uglier and uglier.

He rode back to the cabin and stood outside for a moment, bracing himself. Then he walked in and closed the door behind him.

"You're back." Dutch was on his back on the bed. He'd taken off his boots and his vest. 

"Said I would be, didn't I?" There was no venom in his voice. He was too tired.

He took off his boots and went to lie down next to Dutch. He turned on his side, facing away from him.

After a few minutes Arthur felt Dutch moving and then he felt a hand on his waist. His first instinct was to flinch. Dutch pulled his hand away immediately. Arthur cursed inwardly. Yes, he was still angry with Dutch, but normally he'd still enjoy some physical affection. Being angry was something he was used to. But this time he was reminded of Micah's hands on him and it made him feel sick.

"Sorry," Dutch murmered. 

Arthur sighed. He turned around on his back and stared at the ceiling. 

"No, it's fine. I'm just- I don't know." He felt restless, despite being so very tired. He could still feel where Dutch had touched him. He hated that it had made him think of Micah. The bastard was dead and yet he managed to be here, haunting him. 

"Did something- I mean, did Micah do anything?" Dutch seemed to have read his mind and he sounded terrified. 

"No," Arthur responded immediately. "I mean he beat me, tortured me, threatened to maim me, but he didn't- He didn't do that." But in a way it felt as if he had. There'd been these long lingering touches. And there'd been excitement in his eyes when he'd been looking down at Arthur. But he hadn't actually done anything. And yet he felt sick thinking about it. 

"What did he want?"

"He wanted to know where you were." Arthur really didn't want to talk about the vampire aspect of it all and he hoped Dutch would just accept this as an answer. Of course, he wasn't so lucky.

"He must have had it all planned before we moved."

Shit, Arthur thought.

"He had set up a trap. He'd planned for the Pinkertons to kill me and then lead them to the camp."

"And that didn't work."

"No, I killed them all."

"Good job."

"Well, it wasn't enough. Micah drugged me and brought me to that house."

"Why did he do that? His plan was to kill you. Why wouldn't he take that chance?"

Arthur chewed on his lip. He couldn't keep this from Dutch.

"He wanted to be like me."

"What do you mean?"

"He'd figured out I'd been different and he saw me killing all those Pinkertons and he decided that whatever I am now, he wanted to be that way, too."

"He wanted you to turn him?"

"Yeah."

"Can you do that?" 

Oh no, Arthur thought. There was genuine interest in Dutch's voice. Maybe even excitement.

"No," he said. "I can't. I don't even know how I became like this. It couldn't have been just the bite on my neck. Then you'd be one as well."

"You've never bitten my neck."

"And I'm not going to."

They were silent for a while.

"Are you okay now?" Dutch sounded hesistant. "I mean, you were hurt. Was the blood enough to heal you?"

"I'm fine." He actually felt hungry. Not a lot. Not so much that it would make him lose control, but enough to be noticeable. 

"You can have some from me."

"I just said I'm not gonna do that."

"You said you won't bite my neck. I didn't say you should. You can have some, though. Like last time."

"Last time you were unconscious after. We can't afford that. We have to keep moving."

"Alright. But you'll let me know if you need it."

"Fine. We should get some rest now." Arthur turned on his side again and closed his eyes. He felt the bed shift again, but Dutch didn't come any closer. Arthur felt himself falling asleep.

\----------


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual assault is very briefly implied/threatened, nothing graphic, not between Dutch and Arthur.

It was hard to breathe. Micah was sitting on top of him, holding onto his jaw with one hand. There was a mean look in his eyes.

"Come on now, you know what I want."

Arthur tried to move, but couldn't manage more than a weak struggle. Everything hurt and he was so tired. And hungry. And he felt so hopeless. Because this was it. Noone was coming to save him. They all left. They made it out, they were safe, but that didn't help him now.

"Tell me!" Micah's fingers dug painfully into Arthur's skin. His eyes started to water.

"You gonna cry now, you pathetic loser?"

"I told you I don't know."

"And I don't believe you. You've always been a pain in my ass. Why should this be any different?"

Arthur didn't have an answer for that. And he didn't think that it would matter anyway.

He struggled to breathe while Micah seemed to get heavier and heavier. Every time he tried to get air into his lungs it just wasn't enough. The world was starting to get dark. Arthur heard the rushing of his own blood and his own wheezing.

It took some time for him realize that the darkness was actually real and not just a product of his lack of air. And he wasn't tied up lying on a cot. He was lying outside in the street.

Arthur frowned. He was in Saint Denis. There was still a weight pressing down on him, but it wasn't Micah. He could make out the shape of a tall man. He was bald. He was hunched over and staring at Arthur.

"My my, seems like it's your lucky day."

What the hell? Arthur sure didn't feel lucky. His lungs were burning and he had to suppress a cough with every breath. His neck hurt and he felt something wet dripping down towards his collar.

He vaguely remembered walking into an alley and seeing this guy standing over a dead body.

_"I will suck you dry."_

He remembered that as well.

Another cough ripped him out of his thoughts.

When he'd calmed down he saw the man above him biting into his wrist. Blood was starting to flow and before Arthur knew what was happening the man pressed his wrist against Arthur's mouth. Arthur tried to struggle, he tried to turn his head away, but he was too weak.

"Don't fight it. I promise this will make it better."

Arthur barely heard it. Once the first drop hit his tongue he felt like a new man. This was the best thing he'd ever tasted and he didn't care anymore what it was. Greedily he started to drink.

"That's it, that's it, that's it."

"Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" Suddenly there was nothing but pain. The sweet taste was gone and instead of the strange, pale man, there was Micah again, sitting on his chest, punching his face.

Arthur grabbed the hand punching him and pushed against Micah. To his surprise he was no longer tied to the cot. He sat up.

"Calm down, Arthur. It's me." Hands were holding onto his wrists, but not in a bruising manner. And that wasn't Micah's voice.

It took some time, but slowly Arthur realized that it was Dutch who was holding his wrists and talking to him.

Arthur looked around. He was sitting on a bed. Dutch was standing in front of him, bent down. They were in the cabin. They were alone. And it was still night. He'd probably only been asleep for a few hours.

He stopped struggling. After a while Dutch released his wrists and took a step back.

Arthur took a deep breath and was relieved to find that he could do that just fine. He wiped at his mouth, but it was clean. His heart was still pounding. Dutch was looking at him, clearly unsure of what to do. Which was unnerving in its own way.

"Are you ok?" Dutch finally asked, sounding hesitant.

Arthur nodded.

"Yeah, it's just- I mean, just a bad dream."

"About Micah?"

Arthur shrugged.

"Can't really remember. I guess so." Truth was he didn't want to talk about it. And he wasn't really sure if the part about the Saint Denis vampire had just been a dream or an actual memory. Oh come on, he thought to himself. You know that must have been what happened. It had felt so different from the rest of the dream.

But he needed time to think about it. If this was really how he became this way, then maybe it meant that he could actually change other people, too. But maybe not, maybe only that one guy could do that. Either way, he didn't want Dutch to know about it. Part of him wanted to talk to him about it, he wanted to try to figure it out. Like they'd done before, together. But he remembered the interest in Dutch's voice when he'd told him that Micah had wanted to be changed. And he wasn't ready for that conversation. He wasn't really sure if Dutch would actually want to be changed, but it certainly seemed as though he'd like to be able to do what Arthur could do now.

Arthur closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands for a moment. Now wasn't the time to make rash decisions. Not in the middle of the night while they were still trying to get away from the Pinkertons.

He looked at Dutch and tried to smile. He wasn't sure if he was convincing.

"I'm fine. Really. We should try to get some more sleep before we head out again."

Dutch pressed his lips together. It looked like he wanted to say something, but then decided against it.

"Ok, then," he said.

\------------

Shortly after dawn they loaded up their horses and went on their way.

"We should head up further north," Dutch said, not looking at Arthur. They hadn't talked much since last night. Arthur was still thinking about his memory and what it might mean. Dutch seemed to be deep in thought as well.

"Alright," Arthur said. "And then what?"

Dutch shrugged.

"I figure we do something that will get some attention. Then we go back on our own trail for a while before we start heading to Hanging Dog Ranch. Hopefully John and Charles will have already made it there."

Arthur nodded. That seemed like a good enough plan.

"What do you think we should do to get some attention?"

"I'm sure an opportunity will arise."

Arthur didn't like the sound of that. It either meant that they'd have to improvise. Or, more likely, it meant that Dutch wasn't going to tell him that part. He couldn't be sure, though, and he didn't want to start a fight, so he just nodded. He felt also uneasy, because he was hungry. What had merely been unpleasant and bothersome the day before had now turned into real hunger that clawed at his insides. He knew he still had time, but not a lot.

He didn't want to bring it up with Dutch. He knew Dutch would try to make him drink from him and they couldn't really afford that now. So, he decided to hold on a bit longer. Maybe there'd be an opportunity along the road. And if not, well, he'd have to think of something.

\-----------

The day passed without much happening. They were riding, taking detours, hoping to keep leading the Pinkertons while at the same time tiring them out and buying more time.

They talked, but only about what they were doing next. Arthur was still mostly thinking about his dream, trying to make sense of it. If that had actually happened, he still didn't know why that man had done that and why he had just let him go. He didn't even know if he'd actually let him go or if he'd escaped somehow. If a memory as significant as that had been buried so deep inside his head, what else was there?

Dutch was quiet as well. He seemed to sense that Arthur wasn't in a talking mood. Well, even less so than usual. Maybe he himself was trying to figure things out. He sometimes looked at Arthur as if he was about to say something, only to look away again.

The sun was starting to set when Arthur felt that he couldn't ignore his hunger for much longer. He was thinking about simply telling Dutch and then look for someone. Hopefully someone who'd deserve it. He couldn't quite bring himself to say anything, though. He was still afraid of Dutch insisting he'd drink from him.

"We should make camp here." Arthur looked up. Dutch's voice had ripped him out of his thoughts. They were near a river and it didn't seem as if anything or anyone was near them.

"Ok," he said.

Arthur was getting supplies from his horse when he got a bad feeling all of the sudden. He looked over to Dutch who was starting a fire.

"Don't move," Arthur said.

Dutch stayed still, but slowly looked at him. Arthur walked towards him.

"Keep working on the fire," he said softly.

Dutch did as he was told, though it was obvious that he was itching to draw his gun.

Arthur arrived at the fire and crouched down.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" Two Murfree men walked out of the nearby group of trees.

Dutch was starting to go for his gun, but Arthur put his hand on Dutch's arm. He shook his head. Dutch raised his eyebrow and looked at him. Arthur just nodded once, it meant 'trust me'. Dutch sighed and moved his hand away from his gun.

"Just passing through," Arthur said, trying to sound pleasant.

"This is Murfree country and I'm sure you know that."

Arthur shrugged.

"Like I said, just passing through."

"Now, why are you in such a hurry? Maybe we can have some fun with you? Seeing as you are trespassing I'd say you owe us."

Arthur felt sick and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Dutch was getting angry. He forced himself to stay calm.

"Can't really say I agree."

The Murfrees came closer. The one who'd been talking was starting to look angry as well.

"Don't much care if you agree or not."

Arthur shrugged again. Just come a little bit closer, he thought.

"Don't much care what you do at all. We just want to rest for a bit. So, why don't you two freaks just get out of here before I tear your heads off with my bare hands?"

That did it. Both Murfrees charged at them, aiming their rifles. But before they could even pull the trigger, Arthur had ripped those from them. He threw the smaller one against a tree. He landed on the ground, not moving. The other one looked at Arthur with wide eyes and backed away.

"No, please-" Arthur gabbed him and bit his neck before he could say anything else. He drank and didn't stop until he felt the body go limp. He threw it aside and walked towards the one on the ground. He was unconscious. Arthur grabbed him and drank until there was nothing left. He threw him down and turned around.

Dutch was still crouching by the fire, staring at him.

"I think we have something now that will get some attention," Arthur said as he walked to his horse. He took out his hatched and walked back to the corpse by the tree.

"What are you doing?" Dutch stood up.

"I'd say we ride further north and leave a trail of body parts on the way. Then we stop making tracks and go home."

Dutch just stared at him.

"Wasn't that your idea?" Arthur made sure to keep his face neutral.

"Well, not exactly."

"You said an opportunity would arise. Well, it has arisen. I say we go with it."

Dutch was silent again and the silence went on for so long it became deafening. Arthur was about to say something, anything, just to make it stop when Dutch finally nodded.

"Fine. Let's do it your way."

Arthur didn't ask what Dutch's way would have been. He just went to work.

\-----------


	17. Chapter 17

They made their way up further north, leaving a trail of body parts. Arthur was thinking about how he'd wanted to try and be a better man when all of this had started and he just shook his head. Seemed like being a better man had to wait. True, the Murfree Brood weren't exactly innocent, but he was pretty sure being a good person meant that you couldn't just choose who it was ok to kill and who wasn't. 

Their journey was mostly silent. Dutch wasn't really talking and Arthur felt bad about it. He had the feeling as though he may have misjudged Dutch's intentions earlier, but he couldn't really know for sure.

Arthur ran a hand over his face. It was frustrating. He felt like a young man again, not really knowing what was going on and not being able to do anything about it. He'd made a lot of mistakes himself when he was younger and if Dutch had kicked him out then, there'd be no telling how he'd ended up. He remembered a failed scam years ago. 

\-----------

Arthur was 23 and quite sure that he could handle anything that life would throw at him. That was why he didn't really listen to Dutch when he'd told him to stop drinking now. That he'd needed to be focused and alert if they wanted the job to be a success. No need to stop, he'd thought. He wasn't a child, he could hold his liquor. 

And only hours later they were running for their lives. Dutch not being able to use his right arm, because he'd been shot and Arthur shaken to his core, knowing it was all his fault.

"Keep moving!" Dutch was right in front of him, his injured arm pressed to his side. The horses had a hard time getting through the thick brush, but they couldn't be out in the open, they'd be sitting ducks. 

"We need to hide," Arthur said, frantically looking around, trying to figure out where exactly they were and if there was any possible hiding spot near here. 

"I know," Dutch sounded exhausted, but also as if he was barely suppressing his anger. And he had every right to be angry. It had all worked perfectly. But then one bullet didn't hit its target. It missed by only half an inch. And that was enough for everything to turn to shit. 

Arthur's insides felt twisted and heavy and he found it hard to think clearly. This is all my fault. We're gonna die and it's all my fault, was the only thing going through is head.

"Goddamnit Arthur, focus!" 

Arthur shook his head and forced himself to forget about what a failure he was for just a moment. Enough time to hate yourself if we survive this, he thought. He took another look around and almost cried out in relief when he recognized where they were.

"Down there," he said, pointing ahead. 

Dutch looked doubtful, but he did as Arthur said. 

They moved down towards the river, riding through the water for a while until they reached the fall. 

"We can hide behind it," Arthur said, not sure if Dutch could hear him. The water was roaring and it was impossible to make out any sounds from the outside. If the men chasing them were out there, they wouldn't be able to hear them. They had to wait and then just hope that the coast would be clear. But it was the best option they had right now.

The cave was narrow, so they had to dismount. They were standing in the cold water for a long time. Enough for Arthur to relive his mistake in his head over and over again. Everything working as it was supposed to. Every guard exactly where Dutch had said they would be. Every bullet hitting its target. Until one didn't. He was stone cold sober now and he hadn't really been all that drunk. Just enough to mess up, he thought. He tried to shake it off.

"Let me see your arm," he said, pointing at Dutch's arm when it was clear that Dutch couldn't hear him. Dutch understood the gesture and held out his arm. He'd tied his bandana around the wound which had stopped most of the bleeding. There was nothing more Arthur could do at the moment. He couldn't even say he was sorry. 

They waited until nightfall before carefully stepping back into the river. It seemed as though they were in the clear.

"Let's head back to camp," Dutch said, not waiting for a reply. 

It was after midnight when they finally arrived.

Miss Grimshaw was there in an instant, ushering Dutch towards her tent, talking about them being reckless idiots. 

Arthur was left with the horses and a sinking feeling in his stomach. He went to take care of the horses, fighting back tears when he cleaned off the blood from The Count's back. 

"You ok there, Arthur?"

Arthur turned around and saw Hosea standing there, a faint smile on his face.

"Sure, I'm fine. It's Dutch who is hurt." He looked up and blinked, willing the tears to stop. He was glad it was dark.

"Well, yeah. But you both had a tough day."

"But it's all my fault!"

There was a pause and Arthur didn't dare look at Hosea. He was afraid of what he might see. Disappointment. Anger. Hate, maybe.

"Come on now. I think you need a drink." 

Arthur followed Hosea to the camp fire. Noone else was around.

They sat there for a moment, drinking some whiskey in silence. Finally Arthur couldn't take it anymore.

"Is Dutch gonna send me away?"

Hosea almost spit out his whiskey. He started coughing.

"Why- Why would you think that?"

Arthur frowned. 

"Because I almost got him killed."

"Dutch is a grown man and it was his plan. He knew the risks."

"He told me to stop drinking and I didn't." 

"I'm sure you won't make that mistake again."

Oh, he sure as hell wouldn't. He would never again question anything Dutch would say, just as long as it meant that he could stay. 

"Right?" Hosea looked at him.

Arthur nodded. 

"So," he looked into the fire. "Dutch isn't mad?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. He's furious." Hosea laughed. "I actually left because I couldn't listen to him anymore." He looked at Arthur and he was serious again when he saw the look on Arthur's face. 

"But don't worry. He'll get over it. He's been angry with me many times and we're still in this together."

Arthur really wanted to believe what he was hearing, but part of him wouldn't allow it. Surely this was different. Of course, Dutch would forgive Hosea absolutely everything, but he wasn't Hosea. He was just some guy they'd picked up off the streets.

"Stop worrying." Hosea must have read his mind. "You're one of us and we don't leave our people behind. You know that. Give Dutch a few days. He'll cool off."

Arthur was still not entirely convinced, but he allowed himself to hope for the best.

\------------

"It's getting dark. We should make camp now." 

Arthur looked up and realized that Dutch was right. He'd been so lost in thought, he'd hardly noticed. 

"You're right, let's find a spot."

He took care of the horses and built a fire while thinking about that memory. Hosea had been right. After a few days Dutch had calmed down and didn't look at Arthur any differently than before. And Arthur still remembered that feeling of relief. It had been as if a weight had been lifted from him and then and there he'd vowed once again to always listen to Dutch, to always do what he said. 

He frowned. In hindsight he was sure that Dutch had taken advantage of that. And he now knew that his lapse in judgement had been just that, a mistake. Foolish and avoidable, but it wasn't as if he'd knowingly deceived Dutch or had acted with an agenda. He was young and sure that nothing could touch him. And he'd learned a hard truth. Noone was untouchable. Every life could end just like that. 

Arthur understood that this instance was one of the reasons he'd been so loyal and so trusting. But there had been other reasons as well. The other gang members and their well being for once. For the first time feeling like he belonged somewhere, having a place in the world. And Dutch had genuinely cared for them back then. Sure, he'd been manipulating at times, but looking back Arthur wondered if that had been something he just couldn't help. 

He sighed. It was impossible to look inside another man's head. And it was even more impossible to look inside a man's head 15 years ago. They were here now and had to work with what they had. 

"Did you have a plan?" Arthur stirred the fire, not quite happy with it. 

"What?" Dutch looked up from going through their supplys.

"You'd said back when we started that we'd need to get some attention and that an opportunity would arise. It sounded like you didn't have anything in mind." Arthur hoped that had been the truth, but he found it hard to believe Dutch would be able to do anything without already having thought ahead. 

Dutch looked down at the flames for a moment before looking back at Arthur.

"I didn't have a plan."

"Really?" 

Dutch looked uncomfortable. 

Arthur felt himself getting angry. And he didn't want that. Things were fucked up enough as they were. He needed to know that Dutch was on his side. He needed to know that he could trust him. He needed to know that he didn't have to second guess every damn word Dutch said.

"I thought I'd come up with something, but I just-" Dutch paused. "I kept thinking about Micah and how he'd almost killed you, just because I-" He cleared his throat. "Well, I will admit I was distracted."

There it was again, that rush of relief. Dutch had been telling the truth, he hadn't been keeping things back, keeping Arthur in the dark. He was just lost. 

"I'm sorry," Dutch smiled, but he looked sad. And tired.

"I'm glad you told me. Please tell me these things. We can only make it out of this if we can trust each other." Arthur felt strange saying this. He felt as though their roles were reversed. He was the one talking about trust and Dutch was the one apologizing. 

"What are we gonna do?" Arthur lit a cigarette and held it up. Dutch took it.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur lit another cigarette and took a deep drag.

"I mean now we're going back to Hanging Dog Ranch, but we can't stay there forever."

Dutch nodded. 

"I know." He moved to lie down next to the fire, looking up at the stars. "I figure we should try to make it to Canada. Before we went to get you Charles mentioned something about a secret trail. We didn't have time to really talk about it then."

"Ok." Arthur kept smoking. That could work. There was still the matter of talking to John and Charles about what he was now. He frowned. And the others as well. They needed to know. And he supposed they also had the right to know. One thing at a time, he told himself. We need to get back there first. 

He glanced over at Dutch lying next to the fire. His face was half in shadows and he looked younger somehow. This almost felt like one of those times years and years ago when they would go on a little trip together. To be alone, just the two of them. God, that seemed like ages ago. He realized how much he missed it.

Arthur threw his half smoked cigarette into the fire and moved over to Dutch. Dutch was watching him and didn't protest when Arthur straddled him. He just raised an eyebrow and looked amused.

"What's this?"

"I think, you know." Arthur grabbed Dutch's cigarette and threw it into the fire as well. Then he leaned down and kissed him. 

Dutch kissed him back and after a short time he raised his hands and put them on Arthur's waist. For a second Arthur had to force himself to stay calm. Dutch seemed to notice and started to pull back.

"Don't. It's fine." 

"You sure?"

"I am." Arthur kissed him again and allowed Dutch to pull him down.

\----------


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has gotten a lot longer than I'd initially thought, but we're getting close to the end. I'm not sure if it will be exactly 25 chapters, but somewhere around that number. I hope you're still enjoying this and thanks for reading!

Arthur was overwhelmed by what was happening. He hadn't actually realized how much he'd missed having sex with Dutch and the prospect of it was almost too much to handle. He grunted when Dutch suddenly made a move and flipped them over, so that he was now the one straddling Arthur. 

Dutch grinned before bending down and kissing Arthur again. His hands found their way under Arthur's shirt. Arthur reached up and started to open the buttons on Dutch's vest when he suddenly felt alarmed. He couldn't put it into words, but he recognized it. Something was different and even though he didn't know what was happening, he knew they were in danger.

"Stop," he said, pushing against Dutch's chest. He tried to get up. Dutch didn't react at first, still lost in that perfect moment Arthur himself had enjoyed only seconds ago.

"Stop, something's wrong!" Arthur used his strength to push Dutch off him and get up. He wasn't completely on his feet when a cougar jumped him.

He managed to grab his knife and stabbed at it, but it wasn't enough. He desperately tried to find a better angle when he heard a shot. The cougar stopped moving and collapsed on top of him. 

"You ok?" Dutch came running and started to pull the dead cougar off of him. 

"I think so," Arthur said. He got to his feet with some help from Dutch.

Once again he realized just how much stronger he was now. But he wasn't invincible, he knew that, too. The cougar had managed to scratch his left arm and shoulder quite bad. Blood was dripping on the ground and it hurt like hell.

"Shit, that doesn't look good." Dutch was looking at his arm. He reached out and pulled at the tatters of Arthur's shirt. Arthur noticed that his hands were shaking.

"Doesn't feel too good, either," he said.

Dutch looked at Arthur's arm for a long time. Then he looked up.

"You need to heal," he said.

"Yeah, it's already starting, don't worry." 

"That won't be enough and you know it."

"Goddamnit!" Arthur took a step back. Dutch still had his hand raised. It was covered in blood.

"Arthur, what-" Dutch looked confused.

"Shut up! No, I won't drink from you! And I'm sick and tired of you trying to make me!"

"Are you insane? You're hurt and I want to help you."

"That's not it and you know it. You like it and when you like something you just take it."

"For fuck's sake, you can't be this stupid." There was real anger in Dutch's face now. "You're bleeding and you need blood to heal. There's noone here but me. Do you want to wait until the hunger gets so bad that you can't resist it anymore? Because then you'll probably rip my throat out!"

"I don't wanna carry your unconscious ass through the wilderness."

"Just drink a little then."

"Damnit, I said no."

"You can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?"

"Calling all the shots!" Dutch was yelling now. "I'm still the leader of this gang and when one of my people is hurt and I want to help them, then I'll do that. That's my call to make."

"The hell it is. You being the leader hasn't turned out all that great now, has it?" Arthur's heart was pounding. He couldn't believe he'd just said that. He felt sick. But that could also be the bloodloss, he could feel the hunger creeping in. Great, just what I need, he thought.

"Why is it so hard for you to let other people help you?" Dutch was no longer yelling. He sounded frustrated and tired.

Arthur blinked. He'd expected anger, harsh words, maybe even a punch. But not his.

"What?"

"You always act like you're fine. Like you don't need anyone's help. You were dying of TB, for fuck's sake, and you didn't say shit."

"As if you'd listenend. You were too busy hanging on Micah's every word."

"I said I was sorry. What else can I do? You said we need to trust each other. Well, I'm asking you to trust me. You need help. Let me help you."

Arthur felt taken aback. What Dutch was saying made sense, he couldn't deny that. He wasn't sure if it was the bloodloss, but he couldn't really argue with it. But still.

"It's dangerous, you know that. I'm not making that up."

"The longer we argue, the harder this is gonna be." Dutch looked around their camp. He stopped. "Wait here." He went to his horse and came back with a pair of handcuffs. 

"Why do you have those?" Arthur took a step back.

"Because you never know when you might need them." Dutch stopped and held up his hands. "Do you trust me?"

"Sure." Arthur didn't have to think about that. Only days ago it would have an automatic response, pretty much meaningless. Now it was different. With everything that had happened he was sure that he actually meant it.

"Alright, turn around." 

Arthur did as he was told.

"Hands behind your back." Arthur hissed. His arm hurt like hell. But he knew what Dutch was doing and it made sense. He was surprised that this didn't bother him. Only two days ago the thought of someone touching him had been unsettling. And now he was allowing Dutch to cuff him. 

"Get down." Arthur struggled to sit down. Dutch helped him get settled. Now Arthur was starting to feel uneasy. This reminded him of Micah and the chains. But this is different, he told himself. This needed to be done. 

"Ok, here we go." Dutch rolled up his sleave and made a small cut across his forearm. He held out his arm and waited. "Come on," he said.

Arthur took a deep breath and leaned forward. As soon as he got his first taste, he almost blacked out. Somehow it tasted even more amazing than before. He no longer felt uneasy, this was right. He noticed he was drinking faster and forced himself to slow down. He looked up and saw that Dutch had closed his eyes. And his jaw looked tense. It looked like he was in pain. Arthur stopped.

Dutch opened his eyes. 

"Why did you stop?" 

"I have enough."

"Really?" Dutch didn't sound like he believed him. But Arthur found that it was the truth. The hunger wasn't gone completly but it was very faint. And the pain in his arm was almost gone. He could have easily taken more. He remembered the last time when he got carried away. This time it had been easier to stop.

"Really." He shifted. "You can take off the handcuffs now."

Dutch bandaged his arm and took his time. He smirked. 

"I don't know. Maybe I like you this way."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Arthur felt his heart beat faster.

"Careful. It seems as though you want something from me. You better mind your tone."

Arthur wanted to stay annoyed, but he found that Dutch's teasing felt kind of nice. Better than the fight they just had. And he realized that he wasn't afraid. This was nothing like what had happened with Micah.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry. What can I do to get you to unchain me?" 

Dutch got closer and straddled Arthur's legs.

"I'm sure you can think of something," he said.

\--------------

Arthur only slept for about an hour. He seemed to have recovered enough from his stay with Micah and was back to needing far less sleep than, well, humans. He spent the rest of the night writing in his journal. He tried to recall his dream as well as he could and wrote it down. He still wasn't completely sure if that had happened. He was hoping for more memories to resurface in the future. 

He also detailed what he'd found out so far about his own need for blood. He was quite sure that he'd gotten better at controlling or at the very least understanding it. 

He looked over at Dutch who was asleep. He'd been ok after Arthur had stopped drinking and he hadn't seemed strange afterwards. But now he was sleeping like the dead and Arthur couldn't help but feel the need to check his pulse from time to time. It was good to know, though, that this was an option now. That he could drink from someone without causing too much harm.

At first he'd been angry. Feeling like Dutch had once again put his own will over Arthur's and just done what he'd wanted, taken what he'd desired. But now Arthur had to admit that it'd been the right thing to do. He frowned. It still could have been the thing Dutch wanted and desired. As well as the right thing to do. Two things could be true at the same time. It wasn't really much use pondering on it further. 

Once he'd written down all he could think of, Arthur started to draw. He wasn't sure at first what he should draw, but soon he had an almost finished drawing a sleeping Dutch. 

In a way he felt like a hypocrite for not telling Dutch about his dream. Here he was preaching trust and at the same time he was essentially lying himself. Well, I'm gonna tell him as soon as I know more, he thought. But it sounded like a lame excuse, he couldn't deny that. Once they were back with the others he would talk to him about it. Even if he was afraid of how Dutch would react. 

As he put the finishing touches on the drawing the sun was starting to rise. Arthur closed his journal and bent forward to shake Dutch awake.

"Come on, we gotta go."

Dutch flinched under his touch. He moved away from Arthur and got up, his hand reaching for his gun.

Arthur held up his hands.

"Whoa, it's ok. It's just me."

Dutch's eyes focused on Arthur and after a moment he relaxed. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" Arthur wasn't sure what to do. So he stayed where he was, even though his instinct was to go over to Dutch to reassure and calm him somehow.

"Nothing, I-" Dutch cleared his throat. He looked around as if to make sure where he was. "Just a- Just a bad dream, I think."

"Must have been one hell of a dream." Arthur couldn't remember ever having seen Dutch this unsettled before. 

"Yeah, it-" Dutch pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow. Arthur would have loved to know what he was thinking. "It was strange," he continued. "But now I can't really remember that much."

"Ok," Arthur poured a cup of coffee and held it out to Dutch. "Just a dream, right?"

Dutch took the cup. He nodded.

"Yeah, I guess."

They drank some more coffee in silence.

\----------------

They'd been riding all day and the shadows were starting to get longer. Arthur was glad to be back soon. But he was also nervous about talking to the others. He knew it had to be done, though. He looked over at Dutch who had been quiet during the day. Not silent, but not as talkative as Arthur was used to. But then again most things weren't like they used to be.

"You ok?" 

Dutch looked up. 

"Of course. We're almost back." Dutch shifted in the saddle. "It's been a long day of riding. I'm looking forward to a bed."

"Me too." Arthur smiled. He still wasn't tired, but the thought of Dutch in a bed was quite appealing.

They rode on for another hour and it was getting really dark. It couldn't be that much further, Arthur was sure of it. And just then, they heard it.

"Who's there?" Sadie's voice came out of the dark and Arthur felt more relieved than he'd anticipated. Part of him had been afraid that maybe something had happened to the others. But now hearing her voice felt like home again.

"It's us, Dutch and Arthur."

There was a short pause.

"Oh, thank god. Glad you're back."

\------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's very light consensual bondage in this chapter.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has gotten a lot longer than I'd initially thought, but we're getting close to the end. I'm not sure if it will be exactly 25 chapters, but somewhere around that number. I hope you're still enjoying this and thanks for reading!

Arthur stood outside, leaning against the barn. It was nice being back and seeing everyone again, but after all the greetings and well wishes he found that he needed some space. Some peace and quiet. 

Susan and Pearson had once again worked their magic. The ranch looked almost idyllic. Arthur's wagon was next to the barn, a bit secluded which served him well. Dutch had his quarters upstairs in the main house. Arthur frowned. That was the downside of being back. They had to be careful how to act again. But maybe it was good thing as well. 

Arthur lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He'd like to tell himself that things were good and easy now, but he knew that would be a lie. Yes, he'd decided to trust Dutch from now on. Partly because he felt that he could. But partly also because he just saw no other way out of this. He couldn't be thinking about the safety of everyone and second guess Dutch at every turn. He just hoped this wouldn't come back to haunt him. 

He'd also noticed that he hadn't really put what had happened with Micah behind him. He'd thought he did. The last few days with Dutch he'd felt fine. He hadn't felt the kind of panic or unease he'd felt that first night. But being back here around so many people seemed to stress him out. Which was ridiculous. There was no reason at all for him to feel uneasy around Karen or John or really any of them. Not while he was ok being around Dutch. But logic didn't seem to factor into this at all. Maybe I'm just the same old fool falling for the same old tricks, he thought. 

"Arthur?" He heard John's voice and was tempted to keep quiet. He just wanted to be alone. But in the end he couldn't do it.

"Yeah."

"There you are." John walked up to him. He looked at Arthur, then held out his hand. Arthur smiled. He handed his cigarette over to John and lit a new one for himself.

"You ok?" John went to stand next to him, his back to the barn.

"Sure." Arthur took another drag. "How about you?"

John shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, Charles and I had no problem getting away. And we made it back just fine. I don't think anyone followed us."

"We still can't stay here."

"I know. Charles was talking about going to Canada, before we- Before we went to get you back."

Arthur nodded.

"That's probably a good idea."

They fell silent. But Arthur was pretty sure that John was just dying to ask him about the whole vampire thing. And sure enough.

"So, you healed up alright?"

Arthur had to laugh at that. So subtle.

"Yeah, I did."

"That how it works? You get hurt and you heal?"

"Pretty much. But I need to drink blood for it to work. I'm sure you got that."

"Yeah, I did." 

Arthur was silent for a moment. He knew he had to ask, but he was afraid of what the answer might be.

"Does that bother you?"

John took one last drag and dropped the cigarette. He stepped on it. 

"I don't know. I guess, it doesn't. I mean, it's better than you getting hurt and not healing." He kept pushing the crushed out cigarette around on the ground. "I don't really get it, though."

"I don't really get it, either. I kind of stumbled into this and I'm trying to figure it out. I think, I've gotten better at it, though."

"That's something."

"Yeah."

They stood together for a while longer. 

"I think I'm gonna turn in," Arthur crushed his cigarette. "It's been a long day."

"Sure." John looked at him for a moment as if he wanted to say something else. Then he walked back to the house. Some lights were still on and Arthur could hear the faint sound of conversations. He walked over to his wagon and took out his journal. He read through his notes about the vampire. Then he stared at the empty pages for what felt like forever. He dicided to try to get some sleep.

\-------------

"That's it. That's it. That's it." Arthur couldn't move. The man's weight was pushing him down and the wrist pressed against his mouth made it hard to breathe. Blood was flowing in his mouth and it was both intoxicating and terrifying. He struggled, but found that he couldn't push the man off of him. It felt like an eternity, but finally the man pulled his wrist away and got up. 

Arthur wanted to run away, but found that he still couldn't move. He felt weak, like he'd just ran 1.000 miles. But something was different. He noticed that he had less trouble breathing. There was hardly any rattling in his chest anymore. 

The man looked down at him and smiled.

"What did you do to me?" Arthur asked. He hardly recognized is voice. 

"I did you a favor." 

Arthur didn't like the sound of that.

"Why?"

The man shrugged, appearing nonchalont and carefree, but his eyes were ice cold and calculating.

"It's just something I like to do."

"Why?"

"Don't worry about it. Chances are you won't even remember this conversation." 

Arthur felt the world turning dark. He tried to cling to consciousness, but it was a losing battle.

\--------------

Arthur sat up on his cot. It was still early, only a few people were up yet. He looked down at his hands and found that they were shaking.

"Arthur?" 

Arthur looked up and saw Dutch standing in front of his wagon with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked concerned. 

"You ok? You look pale."

Arthur tried to calm down. He ran a hand thhrough his hair. 

"I'm fine. It's just- I had a weird dream."

"Yeah?" Dutch looked at him expectantly. 

Arthur hesitated. He wanted to tell Dutch. Damnit, he needed to tell someone. He needed to talk about this. He had to be careful, though. He had to make sure not to say too much. 

"Yeah, about that vampire guy, I think."

"Oh?" Dutch handed Arthur the coffee and sat down next to him. "Was it a dream then or a memory?"

Arthur drank some coffee. He took his time while deciding what he would say.

"A memory, I think. It feels like it. But I can't be completely sure."

"What happened?"

Arthur decided not to tell him about the blood drinking part. Not yet. 

"He said that he did me a favor. That it was something he liked to do."

"And he was talking about turning you into a vampire?"

"I think so."

"Did he say anything else? Before or after?"

"He said 'I will suck you dry' at one point. I'm not sure if that was all, though." 

"Ok." Dutch shrugged. "And you can't really rule out that it might have been just a dream after all."

"Not really."

"But you don't believe it was."

Arthur frowned. He thought about it again. It just didn't feel like a dream. It felt like a missing puzzle piece. He couldn't really explain it, though.

"No, I don't believe it was."

"Maybe some more memories will come back. Maybe this happened because Micah was demanding to be turned. You didn't know how to do that and maybe that made you remember something."

Dutch was getting awfully close to the truth, but Arthur'd expected as much. He wasn't stupid after all. 

"Yeah, I guess." 

Dutch looked at him and Arthur was afraid that he would now ask him if he knew how to turn people. He didn't know what he would do then. He couldn't lie to Dutch. Well, he could, but Dutch would know. He could read him like nobody else and he would know that Arthur knew and didn't tell him. And he would know that Arthur didn't want him to know. And he would know that all that trust talk was bullshit, because how could Arthur talk about trust and then keep something like this from Dutch? 

The moment seemed to last forever and there was something in Dutch's eyes that made Arthur's stomach turn. Hurt. It looked like hurt. Dutch only had to look at him to know the truth and he knew what a hypocrite Arthur was. He felt his heart beat faster and his hands were getting sweaty. Any second now he would ask and Arthur would have to lie and it would all be over. 

But he didn't ask. He just smiled sadly and looked away again.

"Maybe you'll remember the rest soon."

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. Dutch had just told him that he knew. Maybe not the specifics, but he knew that there was something Arthur wasn't telling him. And he let him know that it was ok.

"Yeah, maybe." Arthur forced himself to relax. 

"Ok." Dutch got up. "Come on, I thought we should tell the others about what's next. That we have to leave and about your- your condition."

Arthur nodded. He still wasn't comfortable with the thought. But Sadie had been right in the beginning. People had to know all the facts in order to know how to both protect themselves and help him if he needed help. They weren't out of the woods yet. This was life or death. They didn't have a choice.

\----------------


End file.
